Eynn Kemo Bevayitt
by FactofFiction
Summary: She paused to breathe, "I recognize the strain all of this has put on our family. I fully intend to spend the rest of my life working to fix what it is I have broken, that does not change the fact that this will be a hard transition for all of us. Perhaps these few extra days will help." Ziva stays in DC to help track down Phineas, leaving Tony a couple of days to think.
1. Paris Can Wait

"It's over? Like, for real this time?"

"It is over. For real."

"So, you're coming home now?"

"I'm coming home."

Tony collapsed onto the lumpy couch, scrubbing a hand over his face before breaking into the first genuine smile he'd managed in weeks.

"God, Ziva, that's… great. That's awesome."

It was a weak reaction and he knew it. _Great _and _awesome_ weren't the best words to describe how he was feeling - not by a long shot - but they were all he could manage. This whole thing had gone on for so long. And he felt so truly exhausted at this point. So, so tired.

"I just have to help Gibbs with something first."

And, okay, it probably wasn't the best response, but he laughed at that. Full bellied, only slightly hysterical laughter.

"You're…" He leaned back, taking a moment to clear his throat and force down the remaining chuckles before trying again, "You're kidding, right?"

There's silence over the phone, and he knows she missed her mark. If it was a joke, there would be a punchline. But instead, there's just a sigh.

"Tony…" Her voice is all soft and quiet, immediately reminding him of stolen kisses and cold feet. If he closed his eyes, he could almost feel her breath against his knuckles, his shoulder, even his lips. They hadn't dared to stay together long in Cairo, only renting a rundown hotel suite under false names for a weekend. And while it wasn't much, they'd taken every spare moment not spent doting on their traumatized toddler as a chance to reacquaint themselves in the biblical sense. This voice - she used it often then. It was always mumbled against his skin. And it always prefaced bad news. "Sahar had a kid. His name is Phineas and he ran away."

"And?" He hated to sound so callous, but pardon if he wasn't feeling overly sympathetic toward the psycho and anyone connected to her.

"And he's a missing child. I want to help find him."

"Help _who _find him? And why do _you _have to be the one to do it?"

"Sahar lived next door to Gibbs. He and the boy have formed some kind of… bond, I suppose."

Tony laughed again, but with even less humor than the first time. _Gibbs_. He should have known.

"This is the last thing I have to do. The whole team is working on it, so I do not imagine it will take very long. A couple of days… a week max."

"A _week_?" He wished she could see his face. Maybe then she'd realize just how ridiculous this whole thing was, "And what, pray tell, would you suggest I tell _our daughter_ for the next week, huh? 'Hey, Tali. You know that thing Ima's been working on that's kept her away for so long? That's over now, but your mom's not gonna be back for a week. She'd rather spend time tracking down some other woman's kid instead of reuniting with her own.'"

He regrets the words the moment they come out. It's a low blow - even for them - and the choked sob he hears over the line causes him physical pain. He's not being fair. He'd venture to say he's being downright cruel.

But Ziva, of course, pulls herself together quickly. Somehow, that hurts him even more.

"That is not true and you know it. You and Tali are… you are everything to me. My top priority. Always." Her voice waivers in the middle of her sentence and it's that small hesitation that really takes the wind out of his sails. He opens his mouth to respond, but she beats him to it. She always beats him to it.

"I will not deny that these past years have been… torturous. To say the least. But I am not the only one who has been hurt here. And while I love you - both of you - so much," She pauses to breathe, and he swears he can hear her swallow as well, "I recognize the strain all of this has put on our family. I fully intend to spend the rest of my life working to fix what it is _I _have broken, that does not change the fact that this will be a hard transition for all of us. Perhaps these few extra days will help."

She takes a slow breath and in that moment he would give just about anything, _anything_ to hold her. But that's not an option - yet - so he tries desperately to comfort her in the only way he can.

"You haven't broken anything, Ziva. Our family is intact… albeit a little out of touch. But we're still a _family_, okay? Sure, having you around is gonna be an adjustment for Tali and I, but DiNozzos are nothing if not flexible. Just come home. We'll get through this together."

"I am coming home, Tony. As soon as we find Phineas," There's another pause and a sigh so quiet he isn't sure he actually heard it, "This is the last thing I have to do."

"Where have I heard that before?" He said it jokingly, but they both heard the unspoken answer: finding Adam was supposed to be her one last thing. And that took months to accomplish.

"This time I mean it. I promise," Her voice lilts at the word, almost as if she's questioning how much weight it holds anymore. She'd made many promises over the last three years. Hardly any she managed to keep, "Phineas is just so young… and now he's all alone. The least I can do is make sure he is safe."

There are several moments of silence as he fiddles with the buttons on a tv remote. He's trying to read her over all of the miles between them, but he's either out of practice or out of range. He takes a stab at what he assumes she might be thinking.

"You know it's not your fault, right? The kid's mom was a wack job. If she hadn't gone off the rails - hadn't made killing you some long term crusade - none of this would have happened. It's not your fault she's dead."

She's quiet for a long time, and he wonders if she's even listening to him.

"I know it's not. But that doesn't change anything. I need to do this. It is important."

"To you or to Gibbs?" There's a slight edge to his voice. He knows he should hide it better, but he can't. After all these years - the wanting and the waiting and the worrying - it's still about Gibbs. It's 'Do This for Him' all over again.

"To both of us." She says it with finality, and he knows there's no more discussion. It's not the best conversation they've ever had, but he was choosing to count his blessings. At least she was safe and coming home soon - and really, what more could he ask for?

"Okay, well…" He catches a glimpse of Tali across the room, rolling over in the bed and falling right back to sleep, "If the coast is clear, we're gonna head back to Paris in the morning. I can… text you the address or something."

She laughs quietly into the phone and it slowly sinks in that he'll be seeing her in person soon. Hearing her laugh without the distortion of the line, "That won't be necessary. I know the address."

There had been several times over the term of their separation that Tony swore he could feel her nearby. He'd never let himself dwell on it too long, as even a confirmation that she was there wouldn't change anything. She'd still remain hidden in the shadows. But now he wondered just how accurate his gut had been over the years. He wondered if she'd brush him off if he asked.

"Of course you do," He feels the smile creep back across his face, "Keep me in the loop, okay? I wanna know everything. Wanna make sure you're staying safe."

"Do not worry, Tony. I did not go through all of this just to die now. I will help the team find Phineas, then I will hop on a plane to Paris. You stay focused on Tali. I'll be home before you know it."

"Count to a million?"

"A million is too long. 500,000 should do."

"500,000. I can do that," He sighed, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. He was soaking up every last moment of being on the phone with her. It was all he had to sustain himself for up to another week, "I love you, Ziva."

"I love you, too. Goodbye, Tony."

"See you soon."

She was the one to hang up, but he didn't blame her. It had to be getting late in DC, and she made it clear that finding this Phineas kid was a team priority. She'd probably been chasing down leads all day.

He tilted his head to the side and focused on the form of his sleeping daughter.

"Alright, Kid. We're in the home stretch."

She didn't react to his words - he swears she could sleep through the freaking apocalypse. She got that from him.

So instead he picked up his phone and opened the internet. He had plane tickets to book.

* * *

**Sit rep?**

He stared at the screen. The choice to text instead of call was one borne of necessity. While Ziva had likely spent the past 36 hours living it up in relative comfort as she assisted their former boss and the cast of characters acting as the MCRT, Tony had spent them re-packing, re-flying, and re-settling their five-year-old into the two-story villa currently functioning as their home-base.

Tali was a trooper in every way, but even _she _didn't take well to two transcontinental flights in two days (Had he really thought _Canada _was a necessary distance for their temporary lodging?). She was tired. She was confused. And to top it all off, he had chosen _that_ moment - the one when they'd finally landed, taxied home, shared a truly exquisite take away pizza, changed into their comfy pajamas and decided to settle in for some much-needed sleep - to tell her about Ziva coming home.

Rookie mistake.

"_Hey, Tali-wag," He mumbled into her hair as he rubbed comforting circles into her back. Her tiny shoulders shook with the force of her sobs and the sight of it wrapped around his heart and started to squeeze. No parent likes seeing their child upset, but he'd admit to being particularly sensitive to her pain. They had their rocky history to thank for that. "This is a good thing, remember? Ima's coming back. Don't you miss her?" _

_She nodded, lifting her head from where she had buried it in his chest and rubbing at her eyes with tired fists. _

"_Then why are you crying, Meatball?" _

_The corner of her lips twitched at his use of her favorite nickname (one he typically saved for special occasions, but what could he say, she was always his meatball). But just as soon as the smile came, it was gone once again as her lips pressed into a thin line and she started blinking fast to try and stave off the tears. _

_Sometimes he wondered if Ziva was lying, and Tali was actually a clone made in a lab. How else could they be this similar? _

"_Because - I - don't - want you - to - leave!" _

_Nearly every word was punctuated with either a gulp or a sniffle right up until the last one - leave - where she threw her tiny body forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. She even balled her fists in the material of his jumper, as if she was scared he was simply going to vanish from her arms. _

_Realization washed over him in a wave, leaving him sad, scared, and a little nauseous. Tali had memories with her mother. And she had memories with her father. But aside from the less than 48 hours spent in Cairo (the majority of which was her and Ziva, given the kid barely knew him back then), she had practically no memories of her parents being together. Even in the same room. In her mind, she could have Ima, or she could have Abba. Having both at the same time wasn't an option. _

_He should have seen that coming. No kid gets shuffled around the way she did without consequence. Ziva had her time alone with Tali. And then he had his. And now it was time to pay the piper. _

"_I'm not going anywhere, T. I'm staying right here, okay? I'll never leave you." _

"_But Ima-" _

"_Is gonna come here and live with us. _Both _of us."_

_Her little eyebrows drew together and formed the tiniest little crease in her forehead, "But…" _

_Her confusion at the idea - her complete lack of family as a concept in which both Tony _and _Ziva could be present - brought about a whole new wave of nausea. He needed a better approach. _

"_You know Ali?" _

_Tali tilted her head at his question but nodded. Of course she knew Ali. That was her best friend. They met on the playground of their preschool._

"_You know how, when you go to Ali's for a playdate, she has her mommy and her daddy living with her?" _

_Tali nodded again._

"_That's how we're gonna be, okay? You, me, and Ima. All under one roof. Nobody leaves. Nobody goes away. We're all here, together, as one big family. How's that sound?" _

_Her head tilted to the side again, but this time in consideration. She narrowed her eyes at him a moment later. _

"_But Ali's mommy and daddy love each other. They're - um - _married_." _

_She said the word slowly and placed a little too much emphasis on the d, giving him the distinct impression that she was parroting it more than understanding it. And given his status as single and the record run that has been his bachelorhood, the word certainly didn't come from him. Looks like he'd be having a talk with miss Ali's parents. _

_All of this thought about where she learned the word 'married' was thankfully enough to distract him from the stinging slap that the rest of the sentence should have brought. All of these years, he'd been so focused on keeping Ziva's memory alive and making sure Tali knew her mother loved her - he never thought to address the fact that she loved _him _as well. _

"_Tali - your mom and I love each other. We love each other very much. That's how we got you," He poked her stomach on the last word and she smiled at his silly gesture. But it didn't last long. She quickly looked confused again. _

"_So you _are _married?" _

"_Uh - no. We're not married." _

_She nodded slowly, "Are you gonna get married?" _

_He chuckled awkwardly, reaching out to 'pet' Kelev as an excuse to do something with his hands. Was interrogation an inheritable skill?_

"_You are just full of questions tonight, huh?" _

_She shrugged, then stared at him. _

"_Right, uh. _Marriage _is something that grown-ups do when they want the whole world to know they're together. That they're in love." _

_She waited expectantly for him to go on. _

"_And - uh - Zi- I mean _Ima _and I… we've… never felt the need to tell the world we're in love. Or anybody, for that matter." _

_His throwaway comment went over his daughter's head, as he expected it to._

"_Why not?" _

"_Well, uh, because we never thought it was that important. We know we love each other," He cocked a mischievous smile as he reached down to tickle her side, earning himself a chorus of girly giggles, "Now you know we love each other. As far as your mom and I are concerned, the whole world does know." _

_She pushed his arm playfully and slid off his lap, coming to sit cross-legged on her Elsa comforter with an expression of serious exasperation. _

"_That's not the whole world, Abba. That's three people!" _

_He smiled down at her, letting his eyes get wide in excitement, "Look at you with the counting. Miss Mary Poppins must really be teaching you something, huh?" _

"_Poppit! Miss Poppit!" She threw her hands up in feigned frustration but smiled goofily at her dad the whole time. They'd had this conversation a hundred times. Just about every day since she started preschool and got assigned a teacher with the most perfect name Tony could have ever asked for. _

"_Miss Poppit. Right. I forgot." He unleashed a full DiNozzo grin, and she returned it tenfold. He wondered to himself - not for the first time - how he ever survived without the little human in front of him. _

"_Alright, Squirt. Time for bed, huh?" He tussled her hair (sometimes it makes her smile) and moved to stand up. _

"_Daddy?" _

_Uh, oh. She used 'Daddy'. He was in for it now._

"_Yeah?" _

"_Can we watch a movie?" _

"_Movie?" He glanced at the paw patrol clock on the wall. It was getting late. Really late. Like, so late it was almost early. But they had really only landed a few hours ago, and their brains were still functioning six hours in the past, so it was no surprise that they'd managed to stay up this long. "You think you can stay awake through a whole movie?" _

"_Yeah!" She jumped off her bed and ran over to her movie shelf (a modest collection, but seemingly growing by the day), expertly choosing a film and holding it up for his inspection. _

_He eyed her, then he eyed the movie, and quickly made a decision. One he wasn't sure he'd be able to make in a few days' time when his semi-single parenthood turned into co-parenting with his partner. _

"_Okay. We'll watch a movie. But no popcorn. It's too late for food." _

_She nodded and took off, slipping out of the doorway to her bedroom, down the stairs and into the living room before he could say another word. _

And that was how they ended up here: on the couch with her head on his chest and her entire body weight causing his arm to tingle uncomfortably. She was asleep. Shocker. And the movie was only now nearing its climax (he knew she'd pass out based on the film she'd chosen alone. _Zootopia_. She'd seen it at least fifty times. Nothing exciting to stay awake for).

He looked down at her little body nestled so securely against his. She was snoring (a Ziva thing) and had part of his shirt clasped in her little fist (also a Ziva thing). Sure, the earlier conversation about being a family hadn't gone exactly as planned. But he knew she'd come around to the idea. She just needed time to get used to it - and for him to prove he wasn't going anywhere.

The sound of his phone ringing nearly caused him to jump, and he quickly snatched the device before it woke up Tali. He turned it to silent and checked his messages.

_**Phineas contacted an old friend of Sahar's for help. It's not ideal, but it makes him trackable. **_

That was good news… he supposed.

**So it looks like things are winding down?**

She responds in just seconds, and it makes him pause for a moment to consider calling her. He could whisper, right?

_**We are getting close. Have you arrived in Paris?**_

**Landed late last night - er - mid-afternoon for you. Any chance you've booked a flight?**

Talking to Tali earlier had made him aware of some added barriers to their happily ever after… but it didn't mean he was any less ready to get it started.

_**Not yet. I will tell you the moment I do. Promise. **_

**Got it. Stay safe. **

_**Of course. Xoxo. **_

Then, in a moment of weakness - or perhaps a moment of pure bliss at their newly open lines of communication (after years of near radio silence, a few texts felt like everything) - but he opened the photo app on his phone and started scrolling. There were hundreds of pictures of Tali on there. Oh, yeah. He was one of _those _dads.

Finally, he found one he liked. It was actually a photo of the two of them, both standing in the doorway to their kitchen and looking almost surprised at the camera being on them. It was taken about a month ago while Senior was in town for Thanksgiving. They may be halfway across the world, but American traditions still won out.

He cropped himself out of the picture (she'd seen enough of his face in her lifetime) so it only showed Tali smiling wide and leaning partially against a wall. That was the money shot. He sent it to Ziva.

She didn't respond. He didn't expect her to. He just hoped it made her smile. Or maybe tear up a bit… in a good way.

* * *

**Welcome to my actual, genuine reunion fic.**

**First things first: Eynn kemo bevayitt = 'home sweet home' or 'there's no place like home' in hebrew. Creative, I know. I hate picking titles, okay? **

**I've written so many post-reunion one-shots because I've never quite been able to craft my ideal reunion in my mind. Until now. Something about 'Paris can wait' really got my gears turning, and I decided that I can see value in waiting just a tiny bit longer before reuniting. I mean, I've binged surprise reunion fics as much as the next gal, but that might not be the best move for them all emotionally. They need to process a little. **

**That being said, Ziva's gonna be home in the next chapter (spoiler i guess?) so don't worry. You won't be waiting too long for the big moment. **

**I'm about 4 chapters deep in this story so far and I'm not entirely sure how many chapters I plan on having... we'll have to wait and see. But expect chapter 2 - like - soon. Really soon. **

**Thanks for reading! Reviews are promptly read, collected, then boiled down into concentrate that I then inject directly into my veins. Okay, that analogy got weird. But seriously, reviews are great. **


	2. Ima Time

Tony furrowed his brow in concentration as he slowly, oh so carefully measured out a teaspoon of sugar and dumped it into the steaming mug before him. Then he reached for the milk, eyeballing the amount as he knew she always did, and setting it aside before taking a deep breath and evaluating his work.

Don't get him wrong: Tony DiNozzo loved Ziva David with every fiber and ounce of his being. He'd give anything to have her with him and with their daughter for every second of every day for the rest of their lives.

But this few day buffer period between knowing she's coming home and her actually arriving? It's the best damn thing that's happened to them in 3 years.

Because today? He was good. Strong. Steady.

Yesterday? Not so much.

It started with waking up on the couch in a cold sweat. Tali was still curled around his arm and the blue screen of the DVD player was accompanied by sunlight peeking around the edges of the black out curtains. Everything was fine, technically speaking, but that didn't stop his heart from racing or his mind from screaming at him to _run. She's gonna be here soon. You've gotta get out. Pack your things and run. _

He didn't run. Instead he carried his daughter up the stairs, tucked her into bed (he knew he'd regret it later, but he couldn't wake her) and called the Martins - a sweet elderly couple across the street who adored little Tali almost as much as he did. They agreed to watch her for the afternoon and, thankfully, asked very few questions.

Then, hands still shaking and sweat dripping down his back, he called his therapist.

Now, this was a key development from the past few years. Old Tony scoffed in the face of psychology and all it's mumbo jumbo. But New Tony? He saw a shrink. Regularly. And actually listened to what they said and applied it to his life outside of their office. It was an excruciating process… but it did actually help. Most of the time.

Initially, the receptionist told him that Dr. Bisset was booked for the afternoon, and that he'd have to wait until the next day or possibly next week to make an appointment. But then he'd said something about his dead lover coming home any day now and… well… that caught her attention.

Luckily, the therapist was only mildly horrified by his opening line - "So, uh, you remember Ziva? Love of my life, mother of my child? Yeah, she's not dead. And she's coming home. Soon." - and promptly set about rescheduling her other clients because, oh yeah, _this_ was gonna take a while.

And it did. They started with finding the root of the issue here. He had known Ziva was out there, and he'd always hoped she would come home. So why, now that his dream was becoming a reality, was he spiraling so hard?

Easy. It's because he never quite healed from the pain of rejection way back in Israel and has since been simultaneously aching for the return of his lost love and pushing away any notion that she could come back because he's scared that if she does come back she'll eventually choose to leave again because he wasn't enough back then and so why would he be enough now? Oh, and not to mention the fact that she _had his child_ and _didn't tell him about it_ until she was _literally being hunted for sport and had no choice but to send the kid to him for safety _and while this should have been a significant point in their relationship and he should have gotten answers, he instead was thrown into this crazy situation where he's raising a kid while her mother ducks and dodges bullets every day so he can't stay mad because she could die at any minute and as much pain as she's caused him he still can't live without her and has no idea what he'll do if this family thing doesn't work out - which is a real possibility that he has been refusing to acknowledge - and if he not only loses Ziva again but also their daughter who is the only real light in his life and his only reason for being then he will have absolutely no one and nothing and his entire existence will have been one big tale of not being enough.

Okay, maybe not so easy. But knowing you have a problem is the first step.

From there, they set about making a plan. Reintegrating Ziva into his and Tali's life was going to be tricky. It would involve lots of time and space and talking. It meant they'd have to be open and honest with each other (possibly for the first time in their lives) and have to respect each other's boundaries. Which meant there'd have to be boundaries, and it didn't take a highly trained and well certified psychologist to realize that - when it came to Ziva David - Tony had none.

It was a long process, identifying sensitive topics and planning for adequate space for self reflection (so shrink-y, but he'd do his best). But when he finally left her office - several hours and many dollars later - he felt better. A lot better.

He swung by the house to pick up Tali and the Martin's for a little thank-you dinner, then took his little girl to the park. He needed to tire her out if there was any chance of her sleeping that night.

That's where they were, sitting on a couple of swings and having a much needed conversation about Ima's return, when he got the message. He was just explaining what would change ('We'll eat way better food.') and what wouldn't change ('I'll still love you more than all of my movies put together.' 'Even Bond?' 'Even Bond.') when his phone buzzed.

_**Delta Flight BA2390. Leaving first thing in the morning. Arriving at 2:35 pm your time. It might be time to start counting. **_

"_Abba?" Tali asked, pulling herself up to standing on her swing and trying to lean over to read his screen, "What's wrong?" _

"_Nothing's wrong, T-Dizzle. Ima's gonna be home tomorrow." _

"_Tomorrow?" She asked with wide eyes. _

"_Yeah. That okay with you?" He reached over and gently tugged the bottom of her shirt, signaling he wanted her to sit. She did so automatically. _

"_Um…" Her eyes darted back and forth for a few seconds as she searched for an answer, then she looked up at him warily, "You're still staying, right?" _

"_I'm staying. You can't get rid of me that easy," The sentence was punctuated with a gentle poke to her ribs, which made her giggle. _

"_Then it's okay!" _

"_Good," He pulled himself off the swing and checked his watch, "It's getting late. Tell you what: we head home now and you go to bed, I'll take you with me to the store tomorrow. We've gotta get some things for Ima's return." _

"_Deal!" She jumped off the swing and clapped her hands, "Race to the car?" _

"_You're so on." _

She beat him to the car. Shocker.

And while she didn't go to bed right away, he still made a point to wake her up and take her to the store with him the next day. They picked up some general stuff for Ziva - food he knows she likes, shampoo, conditioner, coconut scented lotion (her favorite), fuzzy pajamas. He figured they'd go shopping all together in the coming days (living out of a go-bag for three years didn't result in many outfit changes), but he wanted to make sure she felt comfortable for the first night. He wanted her to feel at home.

It was that desire that led him here: cooped up in the kitchen, trying and absolutely failing in his replication of Ziva's favorite cup of Early Grey. He'd seen her make it a thousand times - in the break room, in her apartment, in _his _apartment - and yet couldn't seem to get the right balance of sugar to milk.

He glanced at the clock. They needed to leave soon.

The decision had been made last night (during a brief and of so bittersweet phone call with Ziva in which they clarified their timeline) that Tony and Tali would meet her at the airport. It just seemed logical. Why have her pay for a taxi when they live close enough? Plus, it was probably best to make initial contact on neutral ground (per the recommendation of Dr. Bisset).

"Alright, Tiny Tongue. Last cup before we head out," He set the mug in front of Tali on the island and she looked at it with mild interest, only scrunching her nose slightly at the nickname. He'd admit, it wasn't his best, "No pressure or anything… but if this one isn't it, we're doomed. Your mom will have to drink mediocre tea all day."

She set down her crayons and pushed aside her drawing with dramatic grandeur (okay, so she wasn't a Ziva clone. She was definitely his kid), and pushed herself up onto her knees in order to get a better look in the mug.

"It looks light."

"She likes it light."

She scrunched her nose again, "Not _that _light."

"Just taste it, eh?"

She shrugged and reached for the cup carefully. Smell, as it were, was the strongest sense linked to memory. He had barely been through steeping his second cup when she'd declared that she remembered that tea. Ima used to drink it all the time. And she was strangely confident that she could identify the proper mix (though Tony had his doubts. No way Ziva had let her 18-month-old consume caffeine… but honestly, this was his best shot at getting it right).

She took a tiny sip and set the mug back down. She tilted her head, as if considering the flavor. Then tilted it the other way, as it comparing it to her memory. When she tilted it back in the first direction, he knew she was stringing him along.

"Well?"

Then she smiled, "That's it!"

"Yeah?" He leaned forward to peer into the mug. It did look a little light… "Then I guess we have a winner, huh?"

"Winner winner chicken dinner!" She announced proudly, putting her hands on her hips and leaning further across the counter. He knew this routine, so he leaned forward too and gave her nose a solid boop. She giggled and booped his nose in return before wiggling her way off the barstool.

"Now it's Ima time?"

"Oh, yeah," Tony chuckled to himself as he turned to clean up his tea-making mess, "Mind grabbing your jacket and putting on your shoes?"

"Okay!" He heard several little footsteps leaving the kitchen, then she seemed to circle back for something. He heard the barstool move and then the sound of something falling to the ground, but by the time he turned to look she was gone again. As was the white paper she had been drawing on before.

Hm.

Crayons were scattered across the island counter and onto the floor, so he took a moment to clean those up before making his way toward the front door.

When he stepped into the foyer, Tali was finishing up the tie on her second shoe.

"Double-tie?" She asked, holding up a foot and nearly falling over in the process.

"I got you," He knelt in front of her and added a second knot to her laces. Then she stood up and he helped her fasten her winter coat.

"You ready?" He asked once she was all bundled up.

She nodded excitedly. A little too excitedly. Maybe caffeine was a bad idea.

"What are you gonna do when you see your mom?"

"I'm gonna run up and give her a hug," She said confidently. That was another part of their conversation yesterday: he wanted to make sure Tali knew what she wanted to do and was ready so when she saw her mom she didn't freak out. He could only imagine the horror of Ziva walking up and Tali running the opposite direction.

"Great. And what are you gonna say?"

"Welcome home, Ima! I love you!" She rolled onto her toes and gave a wide-toothed grin. She was laying it on a little thick, in his opinion, but he figured bigger was better.

"Great. She'll love that," He tapped her chin approvingly before struggling to his feet and reaching for his own coat off the rack.

"Abba?"

"Hm?"

"What if she cries?"

He smiled, "She's gonna cry. I know it."

"What do I do?" She seemed genuinely distressed by the thought of her mom crying in front of her.

"Hey," He held out his hand and she took it, "Not all crying is sad, okay? Sometimes people cry when they're tired or mad. Or even when they're really happy."

"Why cry if you're happy?"

He leaned down a bit and lowered his voice, almost as if sharing a secret, "Because sometimes people get so happy they don't know what to do with themselves. So they cry."

She licked her lips then tilted her head, "Are you gonna cry?"

He didn't actually know the answer to that, but he had a decent idea, "I might. Like I said, I love your Ima very much. And we haven't seen each other in a long time."

"But if you do, it's not a sad cry, right?"

"No, Tali. It's not because I'm sad."

"Okay…" She nodded as if she had just made a big decision, "I think I might cry, too. But don't worry. I'm not sad."

"That's good. It's okay to cry."

Then she smiled and for a moment she looked so much like a young Ziva smiling at him over her desk monitor that he had to clear his throat.

"Alright. Let's go. It's Ima time."

"Ima time!" She echoed, shaking her hips side to side in a little dance.

* * *

Tony remembered once reading that Charles De Gaulle International Airport was the tenth busiest airport in the world.

And as far as he was concerned, that made it the last place on earth he wanted to cart his five year old through, much less when she was bursting with so much energy that she could have fueled their car ride over.

That's why they'd barely made it 10 steps inside before she was wrangled and relocated to his shoulders where she could 1) not escape and 2) keep watch over the crowds of people so maybe, just maybe, they'd have a chance in hell at finding Ziva.

Had this been 3 years ago, he would have happily flashed his badge and made up a story about a suspect evading arrest and boarding a flight set to land any minute now. He'd be at the gate and sipping on a tall one by the time Ziva got off the plane. But alas, no badge. He was now a mere civilian. Which meant he had to wait in the mere civilian area: Baggage claim.

He checked his watch. Then the arrivals board. She'd landed 40 minutes ago. He couldn't imagine she had much more than a backpack to her name, so customs shouldn't take her this long.

"Hey, Helmschick. How's it looking?"

Tali leaned forward, tangling her fingers in his hair to keep her balance (sound familiar?), "Nothing yet. There's a lot of people here."

She said it in that detached tone that preschoolers seem to have mastered. Nevermind the fact that a lot of people paired with a lot of emotions was a recipe for disaster. He knew all about Ziva's panic attacks.

"Well, keep an eye out. She should be coming through any- Ouch!"

"Ima!Ima!" She was yanking desperately at his hair now, as if she could pull him in the direction she wanted, "I see her!"

"Alright - ow," he reached up to carefully remove her hands from his delicate locks and hold her in place, "Which way?"

"There!" She threw her arm in a direction and nearly slipped off of her perch in the chaos.

He tried to catch her point, but was a little too busy keeping her from crashing to the floor for it to really register.

"Okay, okay, can she see you?"

"I don't… Ima!" She let go of his other hand and starting waving her arms, shifting her balance and weight all around, sending him scrambling yet again to secure his precious cargo, "She saw me! She's coming!"

"Okay, how about we sit on that bench over there and you can climb off of my-"

"Ima!" She started squirming, digging heels and elbows and even little fingernails into him as she slid off his shoulders and tumbled to the ground, catching herself last minute on his arm and swinging like a monkey until she reached the floor.

Then she disappeared into the crowd in what he could only pray was the direction of her mother and not a stranger she'd mistakenly identified.

_Damn ninja children_, he thought while straightening his back and assessing his wounds. She'd gotten him good on the arm, leaving three distinct scratch marks down its length, ending barely above his wrist.

He sighed, turned in the direction he swore she'd taken off in, and was about to go find her when he heard his name coming from the opposite way.

"Tony," Her voice broke through the buzz of the terminal like a whip, and he felt it's vibration in his chest, "I've got her right here."

He turned to find Ziva standing there, maybe three steps away, with a duffle thrown over one shoulder and Tali's little body buried in the other. The little girl had clearly jumped her mother, causing her to catch her in a precarious position and make the most of it. Little arms were wrapped around her neck and dark curls covered the majority of the sandy ones.

"You've got her," He practically whispered, "That's good - you've - got her."

She held out her hand then (well, she slid the duffle off her shoulder, kicked it to the side a bit, and then held out her hand), beckoning him.

Tony had imagined this moment a million times. Okay, two million. Or a billion. Point being: he was sure he'd considered just about every possible configuration of their grand reunion. Every reaction she might have, every emotion he might feel, every possible way that little Tali could or could not be involved. But in every scenario, he was the strong one. He was the one squeezing her hand or telling her it was okay.

In reality? He was far from strong. He was tired and scared and lonely. These years had been hard, and he'd learned so much about himself as a man and a father. But she was here now - Ziva was home - and the sheer relief that he felt in her presence was overwhelming, to say the least.

So he let her be the strong one (she was better at it anyway). When he reached out for her hand and she gently pulled him toward her, he went willingly. When she squeezed his fingers and shifted her body so she was standing in front of him with her back pressing into his chest, he brought his other hand up to rest on her shoulder and shamelessly buried his face in her hair.

And when she leaned into him, coaxing his arm farther around until he was absently stroking Tali's back where she still clung onto her mother, he closed his eyes and just soaked up the moment. Holding Ziva, who was holding their daughter. Holding his girls. His entire world.

"We've got her," Ziva whispered, leaning her head against his shoulder and letting out a long, slow breath. She was home.

It was several minutes later when Tali spoke, bringing them all out of the emotional haze they'd entered. She leaned back, emerging from beneath her mother's hair and sniffling twice (they were all crying at this point but hey, can you blame them?) before making quick eye contact with her dad and breaking into a dazzling smile.

"Welcome home, Ima. We love you."

* * *

**Oops, there was a reunion! **

**Slightly different take than most I've seen. I just figured that Ziva has been living for the moment she gets to see her family again... so she'll probably be the more composed of the two. Tony, on the other hand, has probably been suppressing and ignoring his feelings on the topic of reunion for so long that he'll likely get overwhelmed. He is an emotionally scarred cancer, so what more can you expect? **

**But Ziva's not gonna be composed the whole time. Promise. **

**Hope you guys liked my little reunion scene. I've got a few more things I wanna address in this story, so stay tuned. Hopefully, I'll be updating again very soon. **

**Thank you for all the awesome reviews on chapter 1. They really do help me write. Sometimes I feel like my headcanons and takes on Tiva are a little... idk... unpopular? But seeing that so many of you like the direction that this fic is going really keeps me motivated to finish it. More reviews would be great. Fantastic, even. **


	3. Home Sweet Home

"Order for DiNozzo."

Tony's head snapped up from his phone screen. He waded his way through the crowded shop, narrowly dodging waiters and high-chaired toddlers in his pursuit of the take-out counter.

"DiNozzo," He muttered to the cashier as he flashed a receipt and reached for the bags of food.

"Bon appétit," The young man behind the counter had grey eyes and an impressively bushy mustache. These details, for some reason, stuck in Tony's head.

Probably because they offered him an escape from all the _other _things stuck in there.

"Thanks," He dropped a fiver in the jar and scooped the bags under his arm, "I mean - merci."

Okay, so take out as the first official family meal? Not ideal. But neither was burning down the house by cooking in his distracted state. Besides - Lo Scoglio held a special place in their home. Ziva would have to buy in at some point. And maybe, just maybe, there's something poetic about eating out of plastic takeaway bins. A bit of 'old times sake'.

Plus, the ordering, waiting and picking up of the food allowed him a moment of reprieve. They were two hours into this whole family-unit thing and he could already feel those boundaries - Remember those? Discussed at length and outlined in his therapist's office barely 24 hours prior - going out the window. Ziva was so hypnotizing. Even in the quiet, seemingly contemplative state she'd slipped into upon leaving the airport. Everything about her was drawing him in. And he didn't need to be drawn in at the moment. He had too much to accomplish first.

To be fair, she seemed to be fighting the pull as well. It helped a bit that Tali - bless her little heart - hadn't stopped talking long enough to even take a breath since they got in the car. She pointed out everything as they drove: street signs and corner parks and funny shaped trees. She named every restaurant they'd ever eaten at on their route and told elaborate stories about every plaza they'd visited while exploring the city (including the story of when Tony turned his back for 30 seconds to buy them an ice cream cone and Tali took it upon herself to wander through the crowds of people alone for upwards of an hour. He could have done without the retelling of _that _one.). But it was sweet, really. The girl was so excited to share her home with Ziva, she's gotten a serious case of the yabba yabba. She came by it honestly.

Their car was parked along the curb about half a block down from the storefront. It was facing him, so as he approached he could see the girls moving through the windshield.

Tali was out of her car seat (Big surprise there. She'd houdinied herself out of every one he'd ever put her in) and was leaning halfway into the driver's seat with her knee on the center console. She was talking fast, making big gestures and flashing shy smiles. Ziva was nodding along, constantly switching her attention between the chatty girl and the white piece of paper she was holding in front of herself. Her eyebrows furrowed as she pointed at the center of the paper and seemed to ask a question. Tali jumped at it, her eyes wide with excitement as she pointed at another spot on the page before clasping her hands together and giggling. She tilted her head back, and that's when she noticed his approach. Her face fell - which in any other context, he might have taken as an insult - and she quickly grabbed the paper from Ziva's hand and folded it. She said something that caused Ziva to look up and notice him, too. Instead of frowning at him, she flashed a small smile.

The one he flashed back was completely involuntary.

"- and don't show Abba," Tali was saying when he opened the door.

"Don't show Abba what, exactly?" He leaned over his seat and set the bags on the back floorboard.

"Shhhhh," She held her finger to her lips and gave Ziva a look, "Our secret."

The smile Ziva flashed as she took the folded paper out of Tali's hand and tucked it into her shirt pocket was anything but small. "Our secret," she repeated.

"Good," Tali spun around to face her dad and blew a big raspberry in his face before retreating to the back seat.

"I see how it is. Ima comes back and suddenly I'm old news," He slid inside of the car, "But you better buckle up, buttercup. I may not be your favorite parent anymore, but you're still my favorite person under four foot, so we're not moving 'til you're strapped in."

She remerged then, tapping his shoulder to get his attention and then blowing another, even bigger raspberry. He blew one in response, which made her giggle, and then she settled back into her car seat and fastened her seatbelt. Tony watched her belt in through the rearview mirror. Meanwhile, Ziva watched him.

"What?" He asked when he noticed her staring.

She shook her head, eyes darting forward as she leaned back in her seat.

He did something stupid then - or, something that had the potential to be very stupid and very bad. He reached out for her hand where it was resting casually on the console and slid his fingers in the space between hers. She looked at him sideways, peeking out from under a curtain of spiraled curls with only the very edges of her lips giving away the smile she so clearly wanted to hide. It was a familiar scene. From years ago. When there was so much to say and so little actually said. He opened his mouth, determined to change that.

"Abba, look!" Tali called from the back seat, leaning as far forward as the seat belt allowed and pointing out of the windshield, "School!"

She was really pointing at a street sign, labeling the road down which several miles from their current spot, her preschool building sat.

"Yeah, T. School," He offered a withering look at Ziva before eyeing Tali in the back seat, "How about Ima comes with us to drop you off on Monday? You can show her then."

Seemingly satisfied with her father's offer, Tali sat back and folded her hands in her lap.

But, alas, the moment was over. And hey, that was probably for the best.

"Alright, homeward bound," He turned to face forward, bringing his arm across his lap to change gears so he wouldn't have to let go of Ziva's hand. That made her chuckle. And that made it all worth it.

* * *

"Home, sweet rented home," He boasted once they reached the front door of the villa. He was balancing Ziva's duffle along with two out of three bags of food, and yet somehow managed to unlock and open the door for the ladies standing behind him.

"Come on," Tali took off in a run, trying to pull her mom behind her, "I wanna show you my room! Papa painted it pink _and _blue!"

"Woah nelly," He reached out an arm (amazingly, he had one to spare) and caught Ziva by the waist just before she crossed the threshold, effectively halting the child as well, "How about you save that for _after _dinner, huh? Then we can give Ima the grand tour."

"But-" Tali had spun, clearly unimpressed with her father's alternative plan.

"Tali…" He said in his best and most practiced Dad voice, "Your mother's probably starving. Strike that - _I'm_ starving. Sit down and eat, then you can show her anything you want. Deal?"

She considered this, eventually countering with: "Can I at least show her my toys?"

"You can show her one toy. Of your choosing. Then you eat."

She narrowed her eyes at him, gauging her odds of countering, before nodding her agreement, "Deal."

She held her hand out for a shake, but Tony's here a little occupied.

"Ima will shake in my place. But the deal stays the same."

She nodded, extending the hand toward Ziva and they shook on it before Tali pivoted and disappeared up the staircase.

"You taught her to barter?" Ziva asked, a little incredulous, as she followed him through the living room.

"It's a valuable skill. Plus, the kid's got some wicked puppy dog eyes. If we didn't shake on things, they'd never get done," He defended, shelving the food on the dining room table and tossing the duffle across the room to the couch. He watched it bounce, then turned toward her in mild horror. "There was nothing fragile in that, right?"

"No."

"Uh, good," He clumsily wiped his hands on his pants, "Wouldn't want to go breaking any of your-"

He paused when he got a glimpse of her face. Strong and steady was sorta Ziva's M.O. And in the moments that it wasn't, she had a poker face to rival that of Gibbs. But her eyes never shut up - if you knew how to read them. And even after all this time, he was still an expert.

"Hey" He muttered, stepping up behind her slowly and getting her attention with a gentle hand on her shoulder.

It took her a moment to react. To stop looking around the room with wide eyes - taking in the couch and the TV and the dining room - and meet his eyes. And that when he really saw it. The cracks in her resolve.

"You okay?"

She nodded. He watched her chest heave with each breath and decided she most certainly was not okay.

"I am fine."

"You wanna say that again without the shaky voice?"

The smile she managed was small and didn't quite take the edge out of her expression, "Not really."

"Ziva…"

"No," She had his hand off of her shoulder and lightly held between both of hers before he could continue, "I am not panicking. I promise. It is all just…"

"Overwhelming?" He offered.

"Yes. Overwhelming," She glanced to the side and gave the livingroom another once over. It was an open-concept space, only a half wall littered with junk and an upgraded fishbowl (Don't worry. Little Ziva got a new name) separating one room from the other. The dining area then led into the kitchen with only an island to act as a divider, "This place is beautiful."

His palms somehow end up on her cheeks and he's not entirely sure he decided to move them there. After a few seconds, she meets his eyes.

"Sorry I didn't say it earlier - twerp kinda called dibbs - but welcome home, Ziva."

She lays her own hands over his and smiles, "Thank you, Tony. I'm happy to be here."

Then there's a sort of lull and that gravity from earlier seems to rear its tempting head. Had her lips always been this pink? Had they always looked this soft?

"Ima, look!" Tali was down the stairs, around the corner, and thrusting a stuffed dog into her mother's arms before either parent had gotten a chance to react, "It's Kelev!"

Ziva smiled, only letting her eyes betray the whiplash she clearly felt, and took the dog carefully, "Kelev, old friend. It is good to see you again."

"Looks like Kelev brought a buddy," Tony said while eyeing the stuffed elephant still in his daughter's grasp, "I thought we agreed on _one_ toy."

Tali reeled, clearly feeling caught, "But _Daddy-" _

"Don't you 'Daddy' me. We had a deal. Kelev can stay, but you need to put Horton on the couch until after dinner."

Her shoulders slumped, then she eyed the stuffed animal for a second before looking at her mom.

"_Ima_…"

Ziva was quick to shake her head, "Abba said one. You shook on it, remember?"

Her responding sigh was long and dramatic, but she eventually nodded, "Okay."

They watched as she disappeared behind the half wall and set her elephant on the couch.

Tony punched Ziva's arm playfully, giving her a small wink to convey his message. _Parents:1 Tali:0._ He could get used to having his partner back.

* * *

She was standing there, leaning against the wall of the hallway, when he emerged from Tali's bedroom.

"She's asleep." He wasn't entirely sure why he was whispering. The kid slept like a rock.

"That's good," was her simple response. She was whispering as well.

"Have you, uh, been out here the whole time?"

Getting Tali down for the night had taken longer than normal - caused by a mixture of her caffeinated state and the conversation they'd had about the day's events.

"_Alright, Kid. I'll read you a story, but first I need an update." _

_She looked up at him with moon eyes. _

"_Ima's here now. How are we feeling?" _

_That got him a shrug, and then she scooted away from him on the bed to cross her legs. _

_After a full minute of contemplation, she finally spoke: "She's prettier than I remember." _

_It struck him as an odd comment, but he couldn't say he disagreed, "Yeah. She's really pretty." _

"_And nice!" She perked up a bit now, as if her father's support emboldened her, "I really like it when she hugs me. Or holds my hand. Or calls me 'motek'." _

_And if she wasn't a kid after his own heart, "You know what? I like those things, too." _

_But then she paused, and her lips twisted in a bit of a frown, "I'm not sure I like it when she tells me what to do. Like earlier with Horton."_

_He chuckled at that, "Okay, first: she wasn't telling you what to do. I was telling you what to do." _

"_Yeah, but she took your side." _

"_There are no sides in a family. Besides, we had a deal, and you tried to change the rules." _

"_I know…" She let out a long sigh, "I'm sorry." _

"_I forgive you, okay? But there's something you need to know about your mom. She's super protective of the people she loves. She just wants the best for them." _

"_So?" _

"_So… if she does tell you what to do - scratch that, when she tells you what to do - you should probably do it. She's always looking out. For you especially." _

_She scrunched her face, clearly not agreeing with his logic, "I'll try. But it might take a while." _

"_That's fine. Take all the time you need. She'll still be here when you're ready." _

Ziva smiled slightly, reaching down to tug at the pants of her pajamas, "I went to change."

"Yeah… I should have warned you about that. I let the Mini pick those out."

She shrugged, fingering the fuzzy material of the pants with a sort of reverence, "It is fine. I quite like them."

He almost teased her about that - a quick line but not knowing she liked Olaf already primed on his tongue. But he held it back. They may not be her style, but they were from her daughter. And he could understand the sentiment.

Besides, she pulled them off pretty well.

"So…" He filled the silence, as surprisingly comfortable as it was, with mindless noise. That was sorta his specialty.

"So.." She started, gently pushing herself off the wall and stepping into his space, "It is getting late."

"Not _too _late."

Her hands found his forearms and coaxed them around herself, "No. Not _too _late."

There was a moment, a full beat, where she let her words dangle in the air between them. They were charged. She was clearly hinting at something. Something they still had time to do. Something it wasn't too late for.

But the moment passed, and while it was nice and fun and familiar to fall back into that same old pattern (standing too close and hinting too hard and ultimately flirting for entirely too long), he found himself feeling a little relieved when her next words came out less weighted.

"I, for one, spent many hours on a plane today. So I think it is about time we discuss the sleeping arrangements."

Her voice was cool, but not entirely detached. She seemed to know what was coming, having deduced as much from the tone of their house tour just a couple of hours before.

"The guest bedroom is at the end of the hall," Tony sighed as he said it, "Clean sheets and everything."

"And that is where I am to sleep, correct?"

He sighed again. She wasn't making this hard, but she also wasn't making it particularly easy as she stood there in that little white tank top and let her hands rest on his shoulders as they spoke.

"I-if you want. I mean… it's really up to you, I guess."

She chuckles quietly, and he's thrilled to be close enough to feel it this time, "I am aware that there are certain things… _privileges_… that I will have to earn here."

"You don't have to earn anything, Ziva."

"But I do," Her hands slide down his arms and she takes a half step back, still within reach, but no longer pressing up against him, "I recognize that. Cairo was a flute. I cannot expect the same level of intimacy now without putting in the work."

He smiled at her - a big, almost painful grin as he lets the familiarity of her flubbed phrasing wash over him. He'd missed her so much.

"Fluke. The word you're looking for is fluke. But you're wrong. Cairo was…"

"Borrowed time?"

As much as he hated it, she had a point, "Yeah. I guess. But it wasn't a _fluke._"

"Okay. But things are different now, yes?" Her thumb brushed across his bicep and dipped under the sleeve of his shirt. It was amazing how she could claim him using such a small action, all the while talking about having no claim to him at all.

He didn't respond, and she took the moment to roll onto her toes and give him a proper hug. One that screamed _I love you_ and _We'll get him_ and _At lo levad_ all at once. He let himself sink into it, embracing the way she overpowered all of his senses, if just for a moment. Her smell. Her skin. The true weight of her in his arms. She was real. She was there. And he was never going to let her go again.

When she finally pulled back, he let out a small groan in protest. That made her smile at him.

"Do you want me to sleep in the guest bedroom?" There's a challenge to her voice, but not a dark one. She's not testing him - she's daring him to tell the truth. And who was he to back down?

"No," The word fell out just as his hands fell lower on her hips and the sheer amount of defeat in his tone is enough to make him frown, "I don't."

She nodded. Then stepped out of his arms and smiled. He watched her turn and walk farther down the hall to the last closed door on the left. She reached for the doorknob, seemingly ready to call it a night, but paused just before grabbing it. She looked at him across the hall with an unreadable expression.

"Earlier. When we were in the car. You grabbed my hand and were about to say something. What was it?"

He shrugged, then mustered but a dazzling DiNozzo grin, "Just that you're my favorite person over four foot."

She laughed quietly and opened the door, hesitating in the hall for another moment, "Goodnight, Tony."

"Goodnight, Sweet Cheeks," He whispered into the empty hallway after she'd disappeared.

He crossed to his own bedroom door and entered without a sound. He didn't bother turning on a light, instead crossing the space by memory and falling onto the empty bed. He knew it was for the best, and he knew they were doing the responsible _adult_ thing here, but that didn't change the basic reality he'd come to accept long ago.

Boundaries totally sucked.

* * *

**Just some domestic fluff. Gotta love it, right? Tiva being parents and Tali starting to just barely push the envelope to see how far she can get now that there are two adults around to make decisions. **

**And as the sun sets on our lovely little family, let me warn you that there will be a time jump in the next chapter. So don't be alarmed. **

**Working on finishing it now. Hopefully it will be up in the next couple of days? **

**Thanks again for the awesome reviews. Y'all are so sweet and also so helpful! Pointing out the parts of the story you really enjoy helps me to reign in all of my ADHD thoughts and keep my story centered on what matters (here, Tony and Tali's adjustment). More reviews would be much appreciated. **


	4. Campfire

"Go away!"

There was a slam of a door, followed by a particularly dull thud.

Tony raised his eyebrow but didn't move from his spot at the counter. He glanced at the two full wine glasses sitting in front of him. Maybe he should opt for something stronger?

Barely thirty seconds after the outburst, he heard Ziva's footsteps on the stairs. She was moving quickly, but there seemed to be just a hint of a stomp in the sound. Like she was throwing a fit, too.

"That girl, I swear-"

Tony held up a hand, effectively stopping her from saying whatever half-hearted insult she had prepared. He knew it was empty - and not very productive. She needed to cool down, and the glass he held in her direction seemed the best way to do that.

"Come. Sit. _Drink_," He used his free hand to pat the barstool next to him.

She compiled automatically - something he found significant given her constant hesitancy in the past few days. Her thigh bumped his as she slid into place, and their fingers brushed when she carefully took the wine glass from his hand, eyed it suspiciously, and then tilted her head back to down the whole thing like an oversized shot.

"Uh, okay," He took the empty glass from her hand and pushed his own, still full, in her direction, "Rough day?"

She glared at him as she picked up the other glass and took a long sip. It made him chuckle, which was probably the wrong response. He just loved being on the receiving end of her moods.

Because she was certainly in a mood. So was Tali. And, given the interaction, he'd just bared witness to… their moods weren't lining up.

It all really started the day before. Tali had been over the moon about the return of her mother and the arrival of a shiny new toy to drag around the house and play with. But the moment Ziva stopped being fun - approximately 12:31 pm when she turned down an invitation to a tea party in favor of a moment alone in her bedroom - the relationship soured. (To be fair, it was the very first moment alone she had chosen to take in the 4 days since they met at the airport, but try convincing a 5-year-old that such things were justified.)

And yeah, he'll admit: he was momentarily thrilled with his return to the role of favorite parent.

But that ended the moment he saw Ziva's face when Tali refused to so much as look at her throughout their entire dinner that night. So he, in true DiNozzo fashion, tried to overcorrect. He planned for an afternoon running errands alone, figuring it would give the girls a chance to talk and hopefully work through this funk.

Big mistake. He came home to find them on opposite couches in the living room, begrudgingly watching an episode of Doc Mcstuffins. When confronted about the tension, each claimed that the other had done something to offend their sensibilities: Ziva had bossed Tali around, and Tali had egged Ziva on.

It wasn't until just an hour ago that Tony got the real story: Ziva had a panic attack while the two were walking to the park. She quickly grabbed Tali's arm, trying to redirect her back to the house where she could ride out her anxiety in private, but Tali had continued on forward. They talked… then they yelled… and finally, Tali took off running in the direction of the park. By the time Ziva caught up, grabbed her daughter, and successfully coaxed her back home, they were both exhausted. And pissed.

"You should go check on her," Ziva mumbled before taking another sip.

He laughed while pouring himself a glass, "Right now? Fat chance. Unless you're willing to act as a human shield."

"She is a child."

"Yeah. A child who's genetically predisposed to throwing things. _At me_, specifically. I live in constant fear of the day she finds the kitchen knives."

Her head dropped to her hands as she leaned into the counter, and he had half a mind to think the subtle shake of her shoulders were sobs. But turned out, she was laughing.

He took it as a sign and moved closer, slipping an arm around her and rubbing her back gently.

"Let's give her 20 minutes - " There was another dull thud from above them and they both looked at the ceiling in concern, "Okay, 30 minutes. Then we'll go."

Her head flung around to look at him, loose curls falling in her face as she eyed him, "We?"

"Yes, _we_," He reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear, "We're a team here, remember? Partners."

"_Tony…_" She whined, reminding him so much of the mini version upstairs.

"Don't you '_Tony' _me. We give her time to cool off, then we go check on her. Together."

Then she pouted. Actually stuck out her lower lip and rested her chin on her fist. And it was so unlike her and still so darn cute… he had to make her stop or he'd never make it out of this situation.

"Hey," He wrapped his arm farther around her waist and pulled her closer to fit her face right in the crook of his neck, "We knew this would be hard. But we'll get through it."

"I just… do not understand," Their position was precarious as they both balanced crookedly on their stools, but she somehow melted into him anyway, "Things were going so well. What did I do to mess it up?"

"Nothing, okay? Nothing at all," His thumb made little windshield wiper motions against her rib cage, and he hoped it emphasized his point, "Kids are total hotheads. _Ours _in particular. But she'll calm down."

"She wishes I never came back."

"She said that to you?"

Instead of responding, she set down her wine glass and snaked her own arm around him.

He loved his daughter… but in that moment, he had a few choice words. Not that he'd ever voice them.

"She didn't mean it. You know that."

"Yes… that does not make it hurt any less."

There was a comfortable silence, and that only ate away at him more.

It had been his idea that the girls spend the afternoon together. His idea that Ziva try and make amends by putting Tali to bed. And they both backfired.

"She used to hit me."

Ziva lifted her head to look at him, clearly confused by his statement.

"After Cairo. She tolerated me well enough in the beginning, but once we got settled in here - once things slowed down and she started to realize that this was her new normal and Ima wasn't involved - she started throwing fits. Big ones."

She leaned back in her seat, keeping a hand on his thigh and leaning her head against the other one on the counter. Her attention was squarely on him.

"They were magnificent, really. She was quite the little showman. Some sniffles here, head shakes there, then out of nowhere she'd throw herself on the floor and start screaming. Legs flailing and hands balled into little fists. I'd try to pick her up, just try to comfort her in whatever way I could… but she'd start barreling those little clenched fists into my chest. And then she'd kick me. And push me away and pull my hair. Anything she could do to make me drop her."

He didn't realize that his expression had darkened or that he was worrying his brow so much until he felt her fingers brushing over the lines in his forehead and down his cheek.

"But I held on. I mean, she was 2 years old. It wasn't like she was hurting me much. And it was the only way I could think to really _show _her, you know? To prove that I was there and that I wasn't going to leave or pass her off to someone else. That there was nothing she could do that would make me go away. I think once she started to understand that, started to see me as a constant in her life instead of a passing phase, she calmed down. And eventually, the fits stopped altogether."

Her eyes grew weary as he spoke, and he knew what she would say before she even started.

"I am sorry, Tony. You shouldn't have had to do that. You should have been with her from the beginning."

"You too. But we weren't, and we can't change that. All we can do is be here now, and make sure she knows we'll always be there in the future."

Ziva huffed out a sigh and ran a hesitant hand through her hair, "Easier said than done."

"Nah, you just gotta be persistent. Eventually she'll come around."

"That worked for you?"

"Oh yeah," His arm had been resting casually against the back of her stool as they spoke, and he figured that was as good a time as any to let it drop back around her waist, "With two David women."

That made her smile. One of those soft, quiet smiles. He'd really only seen them a handful of times, but every time she flashed one, it seemed to wedge itself somewhere in his chest and follow him around for a while. God how he'd missed the way it felt.

Her hand, still low on his leg, gave a gentle squeeze, "I'm glad it did."

"Yeah," He pulled her closer so she could rest her head on his shoulder again, "You and me both."

They fell into a comfortable silence, both taking a moment to process their conversation - it was bordering on the closest they'd come to addressing the big fat elephant that'd been following them around for days - while also allowing the simple touch of their partners to soothe the sting behind every word.

Because it did sting. Those years spent apart, those secrets kept for far too long, they physically ached. And with every passing day in their new state of "togetherness", the wound seemed to fester just a bit more. Reuniting had stopped the bleeding and afforded them time to figure out the next step, but they'd have to start healing at some point.

"Okay," He mumbled gently, "Time to go. Kids not gonna check on herself."

She lifted her head, squinting across the kitchen at the microwave clock, "But it has not been 30 minutes."

"No. But things seem quiet enough up there," He slid off his stool and held up his hand in an invitation - or maybe a challenge, "Unless you're scared?"

"Of her? Terrified."

Despite her words, she took his hand and stood up as well.

"Don't worry, David. I've got your six."

* * *

His promise to watch her six became a little too literal as she stepped through the door to Tali's bedroom. He was there, half a step behind and still holding tightly to her hand, as she looked around the seemingly empty space.

She was just about to say something when a small form stepped out from her hiding spot behind the bookshelf.

"Go away," Tali said firmly with her fists clenched at her side. It lacked the conviction of her earlier outburst. "I don't want you here."

"Tali…" Tony stepped a little closer and she clearly saw him for the first time, "We're here to talk. Is that okay?"

She looked between her parents several times before giving the smallest, most noncommittal nod he'd ever seen, "We can talk. She can leave."

"That's not how this works. If we talk, then we all talk. Deal?"

He held out his hand for a shake. Instead, he got a shrug. Then he looked over at Ziva to gauge her reaction, and he got another shrug. He'd have to do this on his own.

"Alright, new plan," He let go of Ziva's hand (reluctantly) and went to pick up his daughter, "Time for a Campfire."

Tali let him pick her up and set her down on the bed. Then she huffed and folded her arms across her chest.

"Campfire? Seriously?" Ziva rolled her eyes at him as he took his own seat on the mattress.

"Hey, Campfires work. Right, T?"

The little girl shrugged.

"Should we read Ima in on the rules?"

More shrugging. This was going great.

He reached around Tali's back and motioned for Ziva to sit on the bed.

"Alright. DiNozzo Family Campfire - er - David-DiNozzo? Whatever," He shrugged off the comment - though he'd really have to ask for name clarifications later, "Rule number 1: When someone calls a Campfire, you gotta listen."

He raised his eyebrows and looked down at Tali with a pointed expression.

She sighed, "No ifs, ands, or buts about it."

"Exactly. Rule number 2: For the duration of the Campfire, we are to completely, totally honest. No lying. No hiding. No downplaying."

This time he eyed Ziva, and she clearly got the message: No pretending. They'd done more than enough of that.

"Third and final rule: Every Campfire, no matter the outcome or reason, ends in a big 'ole hug. And a forehead kiss. Cheek, if you're feeling spicy."

Tali scrunched her nose and looked over her shoulder at her mom, "Spicy?"

To which Ziva gave a half-smile and vague shrug.

"Okay, briefing over. Time to talk. I called the Campfire, so I'll go first," Tony leaned forward a little, just for emphasis, "I don't like it when the two of you fight. You're my best girls."

Tali threw her head back in what seemed like exasperation, "Aba, we're your _only_ girls."

He looked up in time to see Ziva laugh quietly, though the glint in her eye suggested the comment meant a lot to her. After years of being apart, she quite liked being looped in with her daughter.

"Astute observation, grasshopper. You're still the best though."

The little girl seemed to consider this for a moment before letting out a sigh and propping her elbows on her little knees, letting her chin fall onto her still clenched fists, "Ima started it."

Ziva opened her mouth, ready to defend herself against the attack, but he held up a hand to stop her, "Even if that were true, it's not the point. Campfires aren't for placing blame. They're for finding solutions."

"But she was mean!" Her little knuckles were white as she threw her fists in the air, "I asked her to play with me, and she didn't. We're not friends anymore."

This time Tony started, ready and willing to jump to his partner's defense. But Ziva shook her head at him, gently bringing a hand up to brush over sandy curls before speaking.

"Look, Tali… I know that I upset you when I didn't come to your tea party yesterday. That was never my intention. I was just feeling a bit… overwhelmed. And I needed a moment alone to think."

"What's _overwhelmed_ mean?" She stretched out the word in that distinctly childish manner and added a nose scrunch for good measure.

They shared a weighted glance over Tali's head. How could they explain this to their innocent little daughter? How _should _they?

"It means you feel like everything is happening at once. Like there are things going on… a lot of things… and you aren't sure what you're supposed to do," Tony was listening closely as Ziva spoke, expecting to find an edge or a waver somewhere. But she seemed calm. Relaxed. Completely in control.

"Living with us makes you… _overwhelmed_?"

He watched Ziva's jaw drop ever so slightly. It was a bold conclusion to draw, but one that made sense in the mind of a child. She didn't know Ziva outside of the few days she'd lived there. How was she to know that the anxiety, the deep feeling of being overwhelmed and trapped, stemmed from much bigger things? Much older, much more traumatic things.

Still, his heart ached at the pain in Ziva's eyes as she swallowed to continue. Part of him knew she'd never get over her gut wrenching guilt from those years she was away.

"No, Neshama. Not at all. Coming here to live with you and your father is the best thing that's happened to me since… well… the day you were born."

"Then _why_?"

"Hey, Nancy Drew," Tony wrapped an arm around Tali's little shoulders and pulled her against his chest playfully, "How about we lay off the third degree?"

She frowned, "But it's a Campfire."

"Well, yeah, but-"

"No, Tony, it's fine," Ziva tucked a stray curl behind her ear, before leaning in closer to her daughter, "Aba gets protective because he knows I don't like talking about these things. But you are right. This is a Campfire. No lying, no hiding, no downplaying, yes?"

Tali shrugged at that, suddenly hesitant under her mother's steady gaze.

"There are some things that happened to me a long time ago. Bad things. Scary things."

"Scary?" Tali twisted around to look at her dad suspiciously, "You said Ima doesn't get scared."

"She doesn't," He pulled her closer so her back was pressing against his side, "Just listen."

Ziva let out a deep sigh and spared him a pointed glance, "Contrary to popular belief, I do, in fact, get scared. Even now, when I'm home with you and know nothing bad is going to happen, I still get scared sometimes."

Tali was quiet for several seconds, as if slowly trying to reconcile this real Ima - the one who got _scared _and _overwhelmed _and who knows what else - with the version she'd gotten to know from Aba's stories. Finally, she spoke again.

"Is that what happened on the way to the park? Did you get scared?"

Tony would give it to her: Ziva didn't even flinch at the mention of what he understood to be one of her worst panic attacks to date (whether by level of panic or by level of response he wasn't sure, seeing as she had to wrangle a 5-year-old into submission while practically feeling like she was dying).

"Sort of. I was in a new place, surrounded by people and houses that I didn't know. My mind was racing, and I started getting overwhelmed. I wanted to turn back, and when I went to grab your hand, you started running from me. That's when I got really scared."

The little girl had good sense to look embarrassed here, "I'm sorry, Ima. I didn't mean to get you scared. I just really wanted to go to the park."

"I know, Motek. It's okay. And I'm sorry we didn't get to go."

"S'okay," She wiped a tired fist against her eye, reminding Tony that they were likely far past bedtime territory, "We can go another time, right?"

"Of course," Ziva managed a small smile, "Tomorrow after school, if you'd like."

"Really?" She looked up at Tony, "Can Aba come too?"

He ruffled her hair, "Not tomorrow, Squirt. Aba's gonna try to get some work done. It'll have to be a Girl's trip."

"Okay," She wasn't too disappointed by the idea of his absence, "You'll really take me?"

"Yes. Despite what you may think, I do want to be your friend."

Little legs kicked out from underneath a little body as Tali settled herself farther against her father's side, leaning her head back to give him a smug grin - one laced with accomplishment as if to say _Ima likes me better _(which he wasn't sure he cared to argue).

"But more than that, I want to be your _mother_," Ziva's careful emphasis on the word held a sort of self- awareness to it. A sort of recognition that the role of Mother wasn't entirely familiar to her daughter, and therefore she needed to clarify it farther, "I know I haven't always been around, but that's over now. I'm here to stay. So you can fight with me all you want, kick me out of your room a hundred times, and I'll still be here whenever you're ready to talk, okay?"

Tali nodded.

"And I will always, _always _love you."

Her face lit up at that, "Like Aba?"

Tony smiled. He'd be lying if he said there was no satisfaction in finally being the model parent of the family. He felt like he spent years trying to convince Tali he was like her mom, and now the tables had turned. It wasn't ideal, but perhaps it was a little poetic.

"Just like Aba. You're stuck with both of us, now, Kid. Better get used to it."

She looked between the two of them several times before nodding, "Okay."

"_Okay?_" Tony raised his voice in mock anger, "Just _okay_? That's no way to end a campfire."

He held up his arms, prompting the girl to stand up on her mattress and step into his embrace. She hung on his neck for several long seconds before pulling back and pressing a big sloppy kiss to his cheek. Then she pivoted, taking a couple of steps closer to her mom before hesitating.

After a few moments, she held out her closed fist.

Ziva's brow furrowed, "What's this?"

"It's yours," Tali said simply, then she uncurled her fingers. Tony could just barely make out an irregular glob of what appeared to be gold chain.

Ziva smiled lightly and shook her head, bringing both hands up to touch her daughter's hand and close her fingers back around the glob, "No, Yakiri. It's yours."

"But Aba said you used to wear it every day."

Ah. The necklace. Of course.

"I did. For many years," She brought a hand up to finger the pedant currently resting on her chest, "But I have this one now. Do you recognize it?"

Tali squinted at it for a moment before shaking her head.

"You picked it out for me."

"I did?" There was a small sense of wonder in the way she reached for the piece of jewelry, taking it between tiny fingers and examining the gemstone.

"Yes. A long time ago. When you were very little."

"And you still wear it?"

"Every day."

"Even when you were gone?"

Ziva brushed her thumb across Tali's cheek, "Especially while I was gone. I missed you very much while I was away. And wearing this necklace made me feel like you were always with me."

Tali paused, looking down at her closed palm for a moment before meeting her mother's eyes again, "Aba told me not to wear the necklace too much 'til I was older. He didn't want me to break it or something. But I saw him put it in the box on top of my bookshelf, so sometimes - when I got really sad - I'd climb up there and get it. It made me feel a little better, I guess."

Unshed tears sprung to there surface and threatened to spill down her cheek, but Ziva still managed a small smile, "Good. I'm glad."

Tali nodded absently, looking down at the chain in her palm again, "Hey, Ima?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

And then her tiny body was pulled into a real vice-grip of a hug, but she didn't seem to mind.

"I love you, too, Tali. So much."

"And my work here is done," Tony announced proudly after several seconds of feeling like an unnecessary audience, "Fights over, conflicts resolved, balance once again restored to the family, all that good stuff."

He stood awkwardly, but the girls didn't seem to notice. They were still locked in their embrace.

"Well, uh, Campfire is officially adjourned. You wanna finish putting her to bed?"

Instead of speaking, Ziva gave the slightest hint of a nod. But he figured that's all the confirmation he needed, so the handful of steps to the door were taken before he turned back for a final remark.

"Night, Twerp. See you in the morning."

He didn't get a response, but he didn't suppose he expected one.

* * *

"Hey," Tony mumbled, "I wanted to talk to you."

Ziva paused, towel hanging loosely from her hand where she had been scrunching her wet hair, "Am I in trouble?"

It was too easy. How was it that after all these years - all this chaos - things could still be this easy at times.

"_Should_ you be in trouble?"

She chuckled lightly, giving her curls a few for squeezes before setting the towel on the dresser, "I suppose that depends on who you ask."

"Fair enough."

"Come in," She was gesturing to the bed now, the only reasonable place to sit in the guest room.

Still, he found it a little strange. Sure, it was technically his bed (it was his house in general, if only because dead people can't sign leases); and yeah, sleeping in separate rooms was a temporary arrangement, but the principle still stood: this had been her space for the past few days. There was some novelty in having entered it.

If she felt the same gravity in the situation, she didn't lead on. Instead she found a spot near the foot of the bed and waited for him to start.

"Look - about earlier. The fight, the Campfire, the interrogation… we threw a lot at you today."

Her smile was small, easy, _knowing. _Almost like she'd expected this conversation.

"It was nothing I couldn't handle. You took time to talk to your therapist and make a plan for how you wanted to navigate all _this_," She gestured vaguely with a hand, "I did much of the same - though my therapist lacked the credentials to practice."

"Autopsy Gremlin?"

"He drove me to the airport. Jimmy has always been a good friend."

"Tell me about it. If it weren't for him, Tali wouldn't have survived the first day with me, much less this long. He's really had my back over the years. It's a miracle I never told him you were alive."

She nodded slightly as if recognizing the strain that must have put on their friendship, but then she started moving, shifting farther up the bed and closer to him, though still maintaining a respectable distance. She settled herself close enough that she could reach out and touch his hand - which was exactly what she did.

"I came here with three main objectives. Win Tali's affection - hopefully make her understand, to the best of her ability, that my time away was not by choice and that everything I have done has ultimately been for her benefit. That I love her more than anything and that she should never question that."

He squeezed her fingers, feeling that the moment called for some brief reassurance, "Check. I think she's well on her way to knowing that."

Her lips turned down in what some might mistake as a frown, but he knew to be her shy little smile. God, what that little grin did to his heart these days. "Next was to earn back your trust."

"I trust you. With my life. With our daughter."

"But not with your heart. Not fully."

As much as he wanted to argue, he knew it was pointless. Because that was it, wasn't it? The reason he got freaked out before her return. The reason he's been sticking so closely to the therapist's advice. The reason she was sleeping in this pristine guest room instead of in his king-sized bed with him.

He must have looked guilty because she gave his hand a solid squeeze.

"It is fine, Tony. Expected, even. I put you through… hell, frankly. Not just these past three years, but before that as well. We had something good, yes? With the post elevator stuff and the baring our souls… it was good. It was _real_."

He wasn't so sure he was capable of responding - not with the memories of those talks, those late nights, those conversations wedged in his throat. So he just nodded.

"And I ruined everything. My father died and I… lost it. To this day, I still can't quite put into words what happened to me… but something broke. I self-destructed, and unfortunately, you were too close. One of the many casualties from the fallout."

She tugged on his arm, bringing his hand close to her face so he could feel her breath against his knuckles.

"I thought that letting you go in Israel was the right thing to do. I thought it was strong and wise and _necessary_. But it was none of those things. Just a bad decision - one in a long string of them I made at the time.I can't undo any of that. But I can ensure it doesn't happen in the future."

Then she kissed him - his fingers, anyway - very slowly, without breaking eye contact.

"You once told me you were fighting for me. Now it's my turn."

He had no response to that. He wasn't even sure he was capable of _processing_ that. All he knew was Ziva was holding his hand, kissing his fingers, and looking at him like he was the only thing that mattered in the whole world - which was probably an expression mirrored on his face.

"The third thing," She smirked at him like she knew he was incapable of thoughts, much less intelligible words at the moment, "Was that I wanted to be completely honest. With you. With Tali. With myself. Clearly, there are topics that will have to be censored, particularly when Tali is in the room, but I will still talk about them. I've always used secrets as a way to keep people at arm's length, but I want my family right here."

She tugged his hand closer again, this time cupping it between both of hers and resting it on her chest, just above her heart.

"So yeah. Today was a lot. But I was ready for it. And it worked out in the end," She looked down at their tangled hands with a pointed expression, "I believe I made progress on all three fronts."

There were simple responses he could have used. _You did _or _We all did _or even a simple _Good. _But when he opened his mouth to speak, none of those came out.

"You're a great Mom, Ziva," He leaned forward and brushed wet curls over her shoulder, "That's what I came in here to tell you. You'll never admit it, but I know you've been worried about that. Tali is so lucky to have you."

"Thank you," They'd come full circle to that soft smile, "It means a lot to hear you say that."

"I'm lucky to have you, too."

Then a not so soft smile with a gleam of mischief in her eye, "Oh, Tony. You have no idea just _how _lucky you are."

And once again, it was all so easy.

"Oh? Well, I look forward to learning the extent of my profound luck."

"Say the word and I'll give you a thorough demonstration. Whenever you are ready."

"If I said I'm ready now?"

They'd been moving closer as they spoke, each comment an excuse to scoot, lean, reach. They were leaning heavily against the pillows now. Her hand was on his cheek, fingers partially raked through his hair as she stroked his skin with her thumb. He'd found himself holding her waist and squeezing slightly. He could feel her warmth through the thin material of her tank top.

"You'd be lying," Her thumb drifted down to outline his lips and she took great interest in watching the movement. Or maybe she was going to kiss him, "But it's okay. No rush. I know we've made progress, but home isn't built in a day."

"Rome," His voice came across as breathless, probably from a combination of relief and shifting blood flow. She was right. He wasn't ready. If only his other head could get with the program, "I think you meant Rome wasn't built in a day."

"I said what I said," She smiled as she met his eyes again.

There was a beat, and he knew it was his queue to leave. The conversation was over, and no post-conversation activities were on the schedule yet. But she was still stroking his face and her body was still close enough to touch… he wasn't quite ready to give that up for another night of empty sheets across the hall. He looked for an excuse to stick around, and something in her eyes told him she'd play along just fine.

So he leaned back against the pillows and gently guided her to lay down beside him. Her head fell on his chest naturally, and he snaked an arm clear around her waist to pull her closer.

"Hey, Ziva?"

She lifted her chin to look at him, "Yes?"

"I love you."

Her lip jutted out slightly, a ghost of the pout he'd seen earlier in the night, and he got the impression she'd planned on being the first to say the 'L' word like that. In person. Not across the phone with thousands of miles separating them.

But she must not have minded too much, because she soon nestled her face into his shirt and gave a little smile.

"I love you, too, Tony. So much."

* * *

**Okay, I can explain. **

**Well, kinda. I simply don't have much time to write this semester. I'm interning and working and attending classes... it's just not ideal for fic writing. So, I'm sorry this took an entire month to post. But I can't promise the next chapter will be up any quicker. It's just sort of out of my hands right now. **

**But know that more chapters are coming! I have at least 2 more chapters planned, and then I'll have to think up a few more before I end with the epilogue I really wanna do. **

**This chapter came out way longer than I anticipated, but I think it did a lot for character/relationship building, so I hope you guys enjoy. It's conversation heavy, but they are super important conversations so I think it's okay? Honestly, I got really scared to post this like last minute so I hope it still lives up to everyone's expectations! And I hope all you super sweet readers/reviewers stick around to read my future uploads as well, even though there's gonna be longer breaks between chapters. I'm really sorry about that, but there simply aren't enough hours in the day right now. **

**Please review! I seriously reread like all the reviews a million times because they make me so happy. And they motivate me to write even when I'm tired from school. Basically I love them. **


	5. Counting on It

"You're early this morning, Mr. DiNozzo."

Tony sighed - yes, sighed - and lifted his head from where he'd been scrolling through his email on his phone. He was momentarily disoriented, having been engrossed in his inbox for so long he'd partially forgotten where he was, but was quickly brought back to earth when he spared a quick glance to his left and saw Ziva and Tali standing in front of a large poster in the shape of a tree with a dozen little faces occupying the branches. The little girl was talking a mile a minute and her mother seemed to be nodding along absently, probably having lost track of their conversation long ago.

"What can I say?" He cleared his throat and stood up straighter against the chalkboard, "Kid couldn't wait to get back here. She was bouncing off the walls all morning."

Miss Charlotte Poppit smiled, finding a spot next to him on the board and getting comfortable.

"I know how she feels. Winter break is great and everything, but after a few days I really start to miss the kids," She was scanning the room with a fond smile on her face until she seemed to realize something and swiveled all the way around to look at him (an action which caused him to realize he could feel her arm brushing up against his), "Is that weird?"

"Yeah, maybe a little," He gave her a friendly smile while tucking his phone back into his pocket, "But I won't tell anybody."

He didn't have the heart to admit that Tali's poop-her-pants excitement had little to do with the school itself and a lot to do with the prospect of maintaining her mother's undivided attention for as long as she could milk their tour.

It was all she talked about all morning.

_"Just you wait, Ima. If you think Abba's pancakes are good, you should see my Kind Caterpillar at school. I have the longest one because I've done the most nice things in the whole class!"_

What one thing had to do with the other, he was pretty sure they'd never know, but that was pretty much how their morning went.

_"If you think this outfit is cute, you should see my artbox. Abba got me the 64 pack of crayons so I have all the colors."_

_"If you think my backpack is full now, you should see my table-space at school. I always win the Clean Corner award because I always keep my papers in piles instead of spread all over the place like the other kids."_

_"If you think I'm good at tying my shoes, you should see the nametag on my cubby. I put pink and blue sparkles on it to match my room. It's the prettiest one out of all the cubbies!"_

That's actually what the two were looking at now. Tali's pride in her nametag was only half deserved - she hadn't actually contributed to its construction beyond the picking of colors. But alas, she stood below it now, puffing up her chest and throwing her arms into whatever story she seemed to be telling about its conception. Unabashedly taking credit for something she had very little hand in. She got that from him.

"It will be our secret," Charlotte knocked her shoulder against his and offered a quiet smile.

A smile which he returned, as most people would, without much thought on the gesture. It wasn't until he looked in the direction of the girls again (They'd quickly moved on from the cubbies and were now huddled together around a table that couldn't be much taller than Ziva's knee. Tali was flipping through her binder and making grand gestures toward each and every picture contained within the notebook.) that he realized his mistake.

Ziva was watching him. Actually, she was watching them. Her eyes bounced between their bodies, seemingly coming to her own conclusions as she eyed the lack of space left between their shoulders. He tried to meet her eyes, hoping to get an idea of what was going on in her head, but she seemed to be actively avoiding him. After a few seconds, she turned her head, refocusing on Tali (or at least appearing to refocus) and nodding along with whatever the girl was saying about a particular piece of work.

_Shit_, he thought. _Shit, shit, shit._

He'd meant to warn her about this, but it was too late now.

Charlotte was, by objective standards, a young and attractive woman. She had pin-straight brown hair that fell around her shoulders and halfway down her back. She was a bit on the tall side (her head seemed to hover at right about his shoulder as opposed to Ziva's falling squarely on his chest), and was more leg than anything else - a fact which was often exaggerated (as it was this day) but the pencil skirts she paired with her colorful blouses. From what he understood, she'd been teaching for just under a decade, which would put her somewhere around Ziva's age (not that he dared to ask). She had these piercing blue eyes - not unlike Gibbs - that seemed to shoot right through you and come back out the other side.

They first met at an open house for prospective students to the Beckland Academy for International Students. He had been extremely anxious over the prospect of Tali attending school in the fall (given their unique circumstances of possibly being hunted by terrorists at any moment), and Charlotte had been the first member of the staff to actually take time and answer his questions - no matter how strange they probably seemed. She took him on a personal tour of the building, never once questioning his near neurotic focus on the security and safety of the students while on the property. She also put in a good word for him with the Dean, seeing as how he and Tali didn't technically meet all the requirements for admission (Beckland required some form of tangible international connection, be it a parent in another country or an official military rank). Thanks to her, he was given a chance to plead his case and thankfully managed to secure a spot at the one school within their district that taught classes primarily in English. To show his appreciation, he'd taken her out for coffee a couple of times.

Somewhere along the line, she seemed to have gotten the wrong impression. He never encouraged her to flirt with him. But he also never _discouraged_ her. Things with Ziva had been so up in the air for so long, it was nice feeling like someone wanted him. He wouldn't dream of doing anything real with Charlotte. She was Tali's teacher, for god's sake. But he'd never been particularly open about that line in the sand - which was unfair of him. Something told him he'd be paying for it later.

"Abba!" Tali was running across the classroom, nearly plowing into another kid who was just trying to play with some blocks, "Look what I found!"

She brandished a small pencil top eraser in the shape of a dolphin. It'd been a feature of their 'Winter Festival' gift bags just a few days before school let out. Tali had grown absurdly attached to the little trinket in the days that followed, which resulted in a near-meltdown when she realized it wasn't in her backpack when she came home for break. He'd told her she probably left it at school, but she'd insisted she put it in her bag. In all the excitement of Ziva's return, they had both completely forgotten about the lost eraser.

"Hey, look at that," He knelt down to get a better look at it, "Crisis averted, huh?"

"You left that at school this whole time?" Charlotte asked.

Tali nodded, "It was in my art box! I guess I forgot it."

"That's fine," The teacher gestured toward the tank in the front of the room which housed their class fish, "Gil probably appreciated the company."

Tali giggled before shaking her head, "Gil can't talk!"

"Say's you! Maybe he's just shy."

She looked over at Tony then, as if looking for his thoughts on her teacher's comment.

He just shrugged, "You want me to hold on to that? I can put it in your room so you don't forget it at school again."

He held out his hand for the dolphin, and she snatched her own away as if insulted.

"No," She replied emphatically, "Ima can take it."

Speaking of Ima, she'd been taking her time with joining their little pow-wow. But she was getting close now, just a few steps behind Tali and very much able to hear what was going on.

"What am I taking?" She asked as she settled into place next to her daughter.

"My dolphin," Tali exclaimed before holding up the eraser, "You can take it home for me. Just put it on my dresser and I'll move it later. Not next to my shark plushie, though. I don't want them to fight."

Ziva smiled as she took the little dolphin and tucked it carefully into her front pocket, "Of course. Nobody wants that."

"Ima?" Miss Poppit was leaning back against the chalkboard again, though her posture seemed a bit more rigid than before, "That's Hebrew right?"

"It is," As Ziva spoke, Tali reached up to take her hand, "It means Mother."

"So that makes you Tali's mom?"

"It does," The smile on Ziva's face was small but triumphant. She stuck her hand out (the one not being tugged around by a 5-year old) for a shake, "Ziva."

"I'm Miss Poppit. Tali's Teacher, of course," She looked down at her student then back up at the mother, "It's so nice to meet you. I just love getting to know the kids' parents. You know, getting to see what traits they pick up from who. It's like a big puzzle I get to work out each year."

"I'll give you one piece for free," Tony pushed himself off the chalkboard, taking the opportunity to gain a little extra space between him and the woman to his right, "She's the source of Tali's brains."

The smirk that crossed the teacher's face just moments before she opened her mouth told him he should really abort the mission. Too late now.

"That must make you the source of her beauty?"

He glanced up at Ziva to find her eyeing Charlotte with something like mild interest. Perhaps even amusement. But he knew her well enough not to trust the emotions playing on her face.

"Uh… I don't- I mean… I wouldn't say I-"

Ziva must have taken pity on him, as she didn't bother allowing him enough time to fully respond before she turned to Tali, "Is there more you wanted to show me, Love?"

Tali considered this, twisting her body around to scan the entire room with narrowed eyes, "No… I think I showed you everything. Unless-"

"Easy, Tiger. You've talked Ima's ear off enough for one morning, don't you think?"

Tali looked at him in confusion before looking back over at Ziva.

To which she said, "I don't mind."

"See," Tali leaned into his leg and gave him a small push, "She doesn't mind."

"Maybe not, but I do. I've gotta get home so I can do some work."

The girl's face fell, her lips dropping into the distinctly deep frown that he knew proceeded a mild to moderate freak out. He braced himself for the whines.

"Hey, Tali," Charlotte leaned down to get closer to eye level with her student, "I need some help feeding Gil this morning. Do you happen to know where I could find some?"

Tali's eyes grew wide, "Here! Me! I could help!"

"Really?"

"Yes! Yes! I help Abba feed the goldfish all the time!"

"That's perfect! You'll already know what to do. You should probably say bye to your mom and dad first. We don't want to keep them waiting while we work."

This clearly caused some tension within the child. She looked back and forth between her two parents. Each time she turned, her eyebrows seemed to draw a bit closer. Finally, she landed on Ziva.

"You'll be here after school, right?"

"Of course, Motek. We're going to the park, remember?"

"Oh yeah! And you'll push me on the swings?"

"I will push you on the swings."

"And then we'll go get ice cream?"

"And then we'll go home and you can help me make dinner."

_Ooh,_ Tony smirked to himself. _She's good._

Tali huffed, taking a moment to process her defeat before moving forward, "Mac and Cheese?"

"Sure, if that's what you want."

"Yay!" She pulled on Ziva's arm (a little harder than necessary) to prompt her to kneel down. Then the little girl threw her arms around her mom's shoulders and gave a tight squeeze before letting go and immediately taking off for the fish tank. "Bye, Ima! Love you!"

Charlotte tossed Tony a smile as she quietly followed behind the girl to make good on her promise to feed the fish. He sent her a grateful one in return. He'd been convinced there was no way to separate daughter from mother without shedding some tears.

Ziva stood up slowly, watching Tali pull up a chair and stand on it to get a better angle on the tank.

"Bye, Abba! See you later! I love you!," Tony pitched up his voice to imitate that of the little girl before returning to his normal register, "Yeah, Squirt. Love you too."

Ziva looked over at him with a smile and gave his arm a light squeeze of solidarity.

"What now?" She asked.

"Now we get breakfast. And after the morning we've had, some coffee, too."

* * *

"So tell me," Ziva was leaning over slightly as she examined the assortment of pastries in the case before them, "What exactly do you do for work, Tony?"

He shrugged and sent a withering look toward the ordering line upfront. Was this place always so busy in the morning? "Just freelance stuff. Reviewing old cases. Following up on forgotten leads. Working with families who feel the police failed in getting justice for their loved ones."

Her head snapped in his direction. Had he said something wrong?

"What?" He asked.

"You're a Private Investigator."

She was still eyeing him strangely, making him feel oddly self-conscious.

"Uh, yeah," He shifted awkwardly on his feet and rubbed at the back of his neck, "I guess you could say that."

She made a face - a sort of raised eyebrows, pursed lips, 'well okay then' face.

"What, you don't think I've got what it takes to be a P.I.?

"No, you clearly have what it takes, it's just…" She turned back to the display case with a shrug, "I can't believe this is the first I'm hearing of it."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you are you. Magnum, Marlowe, Dresden… you've spent years idolizing Private Investigators and I am just now learning that you are one?"

Hm. Guess he'd never thought about it that way.

"I mean, it's cool, I guess. Not as sexy as I thought it'd be. I normally pick pretty basic cases. Things that keep me close to home. Don't eat up too much of my time. Have a very low likelihood of landing me in a dump somewhere."

She chuckled to herself but it came off a bit darker than he would have liked, "All good things."

"Surprisingly I didn't really set out to be an investigator again. It just sort of happened."

With that, she looked over at him again. This time with an expression he couldn't quite read.

"Okay, what now?"

"You are just… different… than you used to be."

Something about the way she said it just didn't sit right with him. It was a little too slow. A little too quiet. A lot too detached.

"Different good or different bad?"

The corner of her lip curled in a faint little smile as her eyes raked over him. Normally he liked being the center of her attention - particularly when her eyes got a little hazy and a little playful like they were right then. But considering the question on the table - whether or not she liked the new him and ultimately saw them years down the line with the same chemistry they'd had in the beginning - he wasn't so sure he would have picked now to be checked out so thoroughly.

"Good. I always knew you would mature well."

He was so relieved at her answer, he almost missed the slight drop in her tone at the end. Almost.

"You knew I'd mature?"

"Well, I hoped," A thin blonde barista offered Ziva a cup, which she took with a smile before turning to wink at him, "Against all odds, and often against my better judgment, I still hoped."

"Tony?" The barista asked as she held up another coffee in his direction.

He smiled, taking the cup along with the paper bag on the counter, "Merci."

He turned to find Ziva eyeing the crowded tables across the cafe. He tried to read her expression - and when that failed he tried to find answers in her posture. He was still getting used to this new feeling - this almost animalistic urge to hide, fight, protect even in the most mundane of situations. He knew Ziva's anxiety was unpredictable, and merely being in a crowded cafe wasn't a sure sign that she was going to panic. But, after hearing about her panic attack on the sidewalk yesterday, he was a little extra anxious himself.

He also knew that he showed so much as a withering glance to suggest he wasn't confident in her mental and physical stability, he'd get a face full of coffee. Ziva could take care of herself. That's what he had to keep telling himself.

"After you, m'lady."

He extended his arm to signal she should take the lead. Without any clear indication as to how she was feeling in the moment, he'd let her pick their table. She could decide how many people she felt comfortable around.

But instead of starting across the cafe, she just gave him a blank stare. She even glanced over her shoulder, as if expecting to find someone standing just behind her.

When she finally met his eyes again, he was waiting, his confusion apparent by his quirked eyebrow.

"Oh, you were talking to me?"

"Uh, yeah. Who else would I be talking to?"

"It's just… I thought I heard you say 'm'lady'."

"I did."

"So then I just assumed your friend was here. Miss… what's her name again?"

"Poppit?"

"Right, yes. Miss Poppit. How French."

She stepped around him slowly, making her way between a couple of empty tables.

He chuckled as he fell into step behind her. He just couldn't help himself.

"Pretty sure she's English, actually. Y'know… with the accent. "

"Whatever," She threw her head back in exasperation as she carefully maneuvered through a particularly crowded section of the shop.

"See, I knew you'd be jealous. I totally meant to warn you about that before we left."

"Warn me about what?" She sidestepped a circle of lounge chairs and came to a halt in front of an empty table by the windows, "The attractive woman who practically falls over herself to flirt with you? 'That must make you the beauty'. What does that mean anyway?"

She sat down on one side of the table, and he stepped around to sit on the other, only allowing himself a moment's satisfaction as he caught the tightness in her expression.

"Not sure. You really think she's attractive?" He asked. He was teasing her now.

"Like you didn't notice."

"I didn't."

"Oh, come on, Tony. You may be getting up there in years, but your eyesight has not started failing you yet. She's gorgeous."

"Okay, first off: ouch," He laid a wounded hand on his chest, to which she rolled her eyes. She tried to hide her smile with a strategic sip of her drink, but he saw it anyway. "And as far as Charlotte goes, you have nothing to worry about."

"Oh, she's _Charlotte_ now?"

He could have head slapped himself for that one.

"Look," He set down his cup of coffee and pulled out their muffin, carefully unwrapping it and setting it in the center of the table, "She could be Charlotte or Miss Poppit or whatever she wants to be. She's still just Tali's teacher. There's nothing to be up in arms about."

She reached out to take a piece slowly, eyeing him the entire time, "I am not up in arms. And I'm most certainly not jealous."

"Really? You're not?"

She shook her head, "Not at all. I'm merely surprised at the lack of professionalism it requires for a preschool teacher to feel justified in acting that way in front of her students."

"It's… unprofessional?" Okay, he'll admit, he anticipated Ziva going many directions with this conversation, but this was not one of them.

"Yes. Very. Don't you think?"

_That_ felt like a trick question.

"Uh, I guess. Though, I'm not sure that we, of all people, should be calling anybody unprofessional. It feels a little pot-kettle if you ask me."

There was a long beat where he fully expected her to respond - maybe flub the expression in question and continue to deny her feelings toward the woman. But she didn't, and when he looked over to see why, he found her looking thoughtfully out the window while absently chewing on a bite of muffin.

"I'm not jealous," She finally said.

"No?" He was struck with a wash of insecurity (If she really wasn't jealous, what did that mean for them?) and sincerely hoped it wasn't reflected in his voice.

"No," She tilted her chin in what could either be perceived as an acknowledgment or a challenge, "I do not currently feel I have a right to be jealous. It is one of those things, you know? Something I'll have to earn."

He wanted to protest - to tell her she always had a right when it came to him - but then she took a larger piece of muffin and pushed the rest across the table for him to finish. And he figured, hell, if she wanted to think she earned her place, he'd let her. It wouldn't hurt either way.

"But I will say: if a few months down the line, she is still over there making oogly eyes at you-"

"_Googly_ eyes, Ziva."

"Whatever kind of eyes they are," She lifted her cup to take another sip, and this time the tilt of her jaw was all challenge, "If she continues to make them into the foreseeable future, we will have a serious problem."

"I'll be sure to let her know," He tilted his own head as he took a sip of his latte. The smile that had spread across his face somewhere in the midst of their conversation was starting to hurt, but he couldn't quite get the muscles to relax. Feeling wanted by anyone over the past year had been nice, but it was nothing compared to being wanted by Ziva.

"So," He leaned back in his chair and brought his arm up to rest on the back of the empty one next to him. A more casual position for a more casual conversation. Or so he thought. "You got any plans for today?"

She went to say something, then seemed to stop herself to reconsider.

"I think I need to call Orli."

"Orli?"

"Yes. I need to…_ un_dead myself, for lack of a better term."

"Yeah," He turned his head slightly to take another sip, but kept his eyes trained on her face, "Seems like she'd be a good resource for that sort of thing."

"Yes. I thought so, too."

He watched her take another chunk out of the muffin before pushing the rest in his direction. She then split her chunk into smaller pieces, which she ate one by one until she was done with the treat. He waited for her to speak. He knew she had a lot to say. But when it became clear that she wasn't going to, he decided he'd start the conversation himself.

"Not to mention she's your director. So you probably need to check-in and see if you have any orders waiting on her desk."

And then, for might actually be the first time in the history of their relationship, she gave him a look of genuine surprise. She had not expected him to know about that.

"How did you…"

He shook his head. There wasn't much to say, really. Between the years of silence and the farmhouse and the secret love child… things just weren't quite adding up. Having Orli, of all people, deliver Tali? It didn't make sense. And even when she spoke of Ziva, tried to convince him they'd 'mended many bridges' and become friends, there was still a coldness in her voice. He could smell a rehearsed set from a mile away. He was an investigator after all.

It hadn't taken much digging to confirm what he'd already assumed: Ziva had rejoined Mossad a few months after their Casablanca Kiss.

"Tony, it's…" She paused, bringing both of her hands together to rest on her cup. She stared down at it, clearly trying to work out her best route forward. "It's not what you think."

"No? And what exactly do I think?"

She finally met his eyes, and he almost wished she hadn't.

"You think that I lied to you. Or at least that I wasn't entirely truthful."

"Were you?"

"Yes. I stayed in Israel because I wanted a fresh start. And a clean break. I wanted to give up that lifestyle, and I did."

"So you rejoined for what? The Mossad knitting circle?"

The corner of her lips curled up into a dark half-smile, "Something like that."

She waited for him to say something, but he felt no obligation to do so. It was her show now.

She bowed her head again, taking an unnecessary interest in the wood grain beneath her cup.

"It's not as easy as just walking away. You've seen the movies. People who do the things I used to do… they don't just get to bow out whenever they want. They make enemies. Powerful ones. You've said it yourself: there's no such thing as a former assassin."

"But there is. You were one. For almost a decade."

"No, I was a liaison officer, and then I was a special agent for a branch of the United States Military. I resigned from Mossad and pledged my allegiance to an equally powerful institution. At no point in time was I left without adequate protection from the 'Sahars' of my past."

There was a part of his brain that saw her point. There was a certain level of status that came along with being a US Federal Agent. Namely: anybody who messed with you was likely to face the wrath of whatever division or agency you worked for. In this case, anyone who went after Ziva would have been met with not only the force of NCIS but also the entire US Navy. It didn't seem like a risk many back alley terrorists would be willing to take.

But, there was another part of his brain (which just happened to be bigger in the given moment) that wasn't done being hurt by this.

"So you signed your life away for an Israeli-tech security system?"

Her nose scrunched and she shook her head. When she lifted her eyes again, he saw the sheer exasperation in her face.

"I didn't sign away anything. Look, we can all agree that Mossad engages in rather… _risky business_, yes?"

"Risky Business. 1983. Tom Cruise. 'Time of your life, huh kid?'"

She didn't dignify his reference with a response.

"The tactics they use are bold. And they're brash. And to some, they are just plain distasteful. But it is how they have always run. And it is how they will continue to run until Israel is no longer a target. It's simply how things must be."

"Frankly, I don't give a damn about the future of Israel. I care about the future of you."

"Then would you just listen to me?" Her body moved in a strange flinch and he heard what sounded suspiciously like a stomp coming from beneath their table. Then she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and shoved down the frustration he was clearly triggering. He waited for her to continue.

"Because of the nature of their… _business _… Mossad as an organization has gone to great lengths to ensure the safety of its operatives. These safety precautions apply to officers while they are on assignment, but they are also extended to those not on assignment. They understand the amount of danger we put ourselves in to carry out orders, and they want to protect us from any negative consequences that might arise afterward."

"Like death."

"Like being hunted down and tortured for actions taken while carrying out orders."

He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. Up until this point, Ziva had been both hunted down and tortured for her work with Mossad. He wasn't sure he wanted to see what else these terrorists could think up for her.

She paused in her lecture, seeming to have noticed the change in his demeanor. One of her hands slid off her cup and reached across the table to grab his. When she spoke again, her voice was much softer.

"After I left NCIS, I had nothing. No badge. No gun. Nobody to watch my back."

She squeezed his fingers here, a silent acknowledgment that yes, of course, he had always been the one in charge of her six. But he wasn't there, and even if he had been, it still wouldn't have been enough.

"You were vulnerable."

"We were vulnerable, really. Tali and I" Her other hand, slid off the table and she offered a shy smile, "I never gave my safety a second thought until I found out I was pregnant. The moment I knew, I arranged a meeting with Orli. Operatives who wish to retire from the field can be declared inactive. They cannot be called for duty or issued any orders, but they are given the full extent of agency protection in the case that their past comes back to haunt them. It is the least Mossad can do to honor their service."

The scales currently balancing the parts of him that were _still mad_ and _so freaking thankful she found a way to protect herself_ were really starting to tilt. He knew she was alone when he left her in Israel. Knew he was leaving her to her own devices at what might have been the absolute worst time to do so. But it was what she'd wanted, so it was what he did. And he had spent countless hours convincing himself that it was going to be okay. That she was safe and relaxed and working towards finding a way to actually be happy.

He always dismissed his nagging gut as being selfishly yearning to have her home with him. He'd never stopped to consider that maybe, despite the abrupt turn their relationship had taken in the end, he was still in tune with her on a fundamental partner level.

His gut wasn't just telling him he missed her. It was telling him she was in danger. And he never allowed himself to consider the possibility long enough to realize it was true.

"You could have come to us. Me. The team. We would have protected you."

Her eyebrows shot up, a look of mild amusement playing on her features.

"You and the team would have found out about Sahar before she got a chance to strike?"

"Maybe." Not likely.

"Maybe wasn't good enough. Not when it came to our child. I had no idea what sort of threats I would face in the future - if any at all. But I knew if they showed up, Mossad was more than qualified to protect us."

"With a big scheme in which they fake your death and air-mail me a child? Come on, Ziva. There had to be a better way."

Her eyes darkened and he immediately realized his mistake. His comment was meant to be conversational. But it came across as an accusation. She immediately dropped his hand and reached for her cup again.

"There wasn't. You'll just have to trust me."

"Okay, that came out wrong. I'm not suggesting you wanted this."

"I didn't."

"I know that. And I'm sure it seemed like the best option at the time. But there had to be other-"

"We should get going."

He paused.

"Huh?"

"Your job, yes? You wanted to get home so you could do some work."

She stood, tilting her cup all the way back to finish off her coffee. Then she stepped out from the table and tossed her cup in the bin by the door.

He watched her through the window as she stopped on the side of the street, stuck her head out to look both ways, then quietly crossed until she was standing outside of their car.

_Guess that's the end of that_, he thought.

But as he shoved the remainder of the muffin in his mouth and got up to follow, he realized just how lucky he was in the situation.

Lucky she wasn't armed.

* * *

"Now what?"

"Now we add the cheese. Here, you pour it in and I will stir."

"Like this?"

"Perfect. Are you sure you haven't made Mac and Cheese before?"

"Aba has. But it normally comes from a box."

Tony chuckled to himself from his perch at the top of the stairs. He heard the girls come in an hour ago, all giggly and out of breath from their time at the park. He soldiered on at first, replying to case requests and searching through local databases for leads. But work held no interest for him. Not when his family was downstairs.

So he eventually logged off and resolved to join them in the kitchen - he assumed by the rattling of pots and pans that they were starting on dinner - but stopped himself. Ziva had spent the whole day avoiding him. His desk sat at the end of the hallway upstairs, and as a result, she stayed almost entirely on the first floor (aside from a single trip into her bedroom in which she emerged with a leather-bound notebook and an extra blanket). Every time he went down there to grab a drink or a bite to eat, she stepped outside, feigning some interest in the horribly abused planters lining the back porch.

The girls sounded like they were having fun. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin that.

So he just sat down. And listened.

"Boxed Mac and Cheese is good. I think you might like this a little better, though."

"Aba says you're the best cook in the whole world!"

"The whole world, huh?"

"He says you make pizza and pasta and cake!"

"Yes. I can make all those things."

"Tonight?"

Ziva laughed. It was light and airy and musical. It drew him to his feet and pulled him down the stairs before he caught on to what was happening. Suddenly he was around the corner and stepping onto the living room floor.

"Abba!" Tali twisted around in her spot on the counter, leaning in his direction and flashing a thousand-watt grin.

"Hey, Sweet Pea," He crossed to the kitchen and ducked down to kiss his daughter's forehead. He continued past, fully prepared to do the same to Ziva until he stopped just short. He stood up straight to cover his mistake, "Sweetcheeks."

She eyed him without malice, and he almost wished he'd gone in for that kiss, "You're done with work?"

"Clocked out for the day," He settled for a light hand on her back as he leaned over to look in the large soup pot on the stove, "You're making dinner?"

"I'm helping!" Tali cried before her mom could even respond, "I added the butter and the milk… oh and the cheese!"

"Wow, all that?" He took another chance, gently bumping his hip against Ziva in jest, "When's Ima gonna start putting in work?"

Tali giggled, and something told him that it was the sound of the girl's laughter as opposed to his original joke that drew the soft chuckle out of Ziva.

"Now, actually," She stopped her stirring of the cheese and turned down the heat of the stove before looking up at Tali, "Everything from here on out is too hot for you, Motek. I'm afraid I can no longer accept your help."

A pout formed on the little girl's mouth and she immediately crossed her arms in preparation for a proper fit.

Tony acted fast.

"Hey, T, it's after four. You know what that means."

She froze, thinking through the implications of the time before…

"Bubble Guppies!" She threw her arms in the air and practically launched herself off the counter. In the half-second it took for her feet to hit the ground, he saw Ziva flinch out of the corner of his eye. He'll admit, he used to do the same. The kid was a freaking spider monkey.

As quickly as she dropped, she disappeared around the cabinets and made a B-line for the living room.

"Bubble Guppies?" Ziva asked as she retrieved a casserole dish from the top cabinet.

"It's a show. Weird mermaid kids doing… weird mermaid things. They rerun a few episodes every day starting at 4. Helps keep the kids busy so the parents can cook," He leaned over the pot again, having reminded himself of the meal inside, "This looks amazing, by the way."

"Amazing enough to help me get it in the pan?"

She set the glass dish on the counter and retrieved the wooden spoon from the pot, clearly signaling that he was to lift and she was to pour.

"What are partners for?" He muttered as he grabbed the handles.

They shuffled around each other easily, quickly finding their places where he could hold the pot and she could carefully scoop and spread the cheesy pasta into the pan. Once it was full, she reached for the block of cheddar. He watched her grade it across the top of the pasta for a few seconds before a question clawed its way out of his mouth.

"Are you still mad?"

She paused, sparing him an almost shy glance before continuing with her work, "At you?"

"Yeah."

"For what?"

"Being an ass."

The corner of her mouth quirked in a hint of a smirk, "You are going to have to be more specific."

"At the coffee shop this morning. I was completely out of line."

"Oh," Her lips pressed into a tight line and her face hardened into an unreadable mask, "_That_."

"I shouldn't have… I didn't mean to… I know you never wanted-"

"I'm not mad at you."

He held his breath. Honestly, he was still pretty new to this whole relationship thing. But he thought he had a pretty good grasp on when she was setting a trap - and a cursory read of her body language suggested he was in the clear.

Still, he proceeded with caution.

"You're not?"

"No."

"Are you… sure?"

She set down the cheese and gave him an exasperated look, "Do you want me to be mad?"

"No! I just thought…" He had to stop and think. Had he been imagining it? "You were avoiding me all day."

"Because I thought **you** were upset with _me_."

Now it was his turn to fire off an exasperated look, "For what?"

"Everything! I thought the honeymoon was over and we had finally entered the angry phase of my return."

There was a hollow sort of bite to her words and a distinct set of her jaw that he'd come to be quite familiar with. She was making herself big in a moment where she felt very small. His earlier outburst hadn't pissed her off - it shook her confidence. And now she wasn't sure where they stood.

Somehow, that made it all worse.

"There was no honeymoon, and there is no angry phase. I'm not mad, Ziva."

"You have every right to be," The oven beeped, and she quickly bent down to set the dish inside.

"But I'm not. I'm…" When she stood up, he made a point to step into her space. He reached for her hand slowly and held her fingers loosely as he tried to find the words, "Well, most days I don't really know what I am. But it's not mad."

It was meant to be reassuring, but when she caught her lower lip between her teeth and gently pulled her hand away from his, he realized it wasn't.

"Tony," She spared a momentary glance toward the living room before reaching for his arm and guiding him backward until they both stood huddled in the corner, partially obscured by the island and the edge of the fridge. Her voice dropped down to a stage whisper, "I know you have questions. I want to answer them for you. I will answer them. The coffee shop just… wasn't the time or place."

He took his chance with touching her - since she touched him first - by brushing some hair over her shoulder. When she didn't flinch away, he let it drop lightly to her waist.

"I know. I shouldn't have pushed like I did. I'm sorry."

The corner of her lips quirked in a half-smile and she squeezed his arm where she had continued to hold it, "Your apology is accepted, though not necessary. Sorry for avoiding you."

"Yeah, can we maybe not do that again?" He pulled her gently and she stepped easily into his arms - like she'd been there all along, "We've wasted enough time circling each other. Mad, sad, hungry, whatever; let's talk it out and move on, okay?"

"No lying, no hiding?" Her hands found their way to his chest and she leaned into him, giving him the distinct impression they were out of the woods here.

He shrugged, but offered a smile, "It's a good rule."

"I thought we were done with rules."

"Nah. We just make our own now."

"I can live with that."

Then she slid her hands up his chest, over his shoulders and around the back of his neck. She slid onto her toes and pulled his face down until their lips met.

Somewhere between his eyes sliding shut and his hands creeping higher, then lower and lower on her back as he pressed her body against his, there was a fleeting thought about 'moving slowly' and 'maintaining boundaries' - but then her hands tangled farther in his hair and her teeth grazed his lower lip and, frankly, thoughts stopped entirely after that.

They went at it for a while. Long enough that he considered nixing dinner altogether and tossing Tali a bag of popcorn on their way up the stairs in pursuit of the bedroom.

Luckily, Ziva seemed much more reasonable. Her hands eventually became less active, her lips less insistent, until eventually she pulled back entirely and rested her forehead against his.

"Wow," He muttered as his breathing returned to an acceptable rate.

"Still good, yes?"

"Still great," He tucked a stray hair behind her ear and let his hand linger, "Amazing, really. Can we do it again?"

She chuckled before slowly stepping out of his reach, "Later."

"I'm counting on that."

She turned her back to check on dinner, and he took the opportunity to step up behind her and whisper in her ear, "By the way, I'll find us a time. And a place."

She closed the oven again and moved to stand up. The motion caused her to brush against him, and he reveled in it a little too much for a currently celibate man.

She turned her head to look at him over her shoulder and smiled, "I'm counting on it."

He returned the expression and ran his hand up her back before stepping around and heading out to the living room. With any luck, he could catch a full episode of Bubble Guppies before it was time for dinner.

* * *

**Oops. **

**I know, I know. This chapter is long overdue. But it's also, well, long - maybe that makes up for it? A little bit?**

**The world has been crazy lately. I just haven't had time to write. But I do have like 3 more chapters planned for this thing, so don't give up on me now! My semester is over, so it shouldn't take me nearly as long to update again. **

**The next chapter will include a time jump as well as a special guest. They won't be central to that chapter, but they'll be more involved in some of the following ones. Any guesses? **

**Please leave reviews! Let me know what you'd like to see in this story! I just might incorporate it. **

**Thank you all for reading and for being so patient with me. You guys are so supportive - even when I take literal months to update! It means the world and is honestly the only reason I've maintained the confidence to keep updating after taking these long breaks. **

**Hope you all liked this chapter. It had some jealousy. It had some serious talks. We laughed, we cried, etc, etc. **

**Again: Reviews are the best! And keep your eyes out for chapter 6!**


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